Haile Potter (The Girl Who Lived) and the Chamber of Secrets
by loveisforrrent
Summary: Harry Potter Fanfiction. The second book in the series of Haile Potter! What will happen to Haile during her second year after she finally makes it back to Hogwarts? There's something at work in Hogwarts...the Chamber has been open...but does Haile have something to do with it like everyone thinks she does?
1. Chapter 1: Going Back to Hogwarts

(Haile Potter will be portrayed as Lucy Hale in her younger years and Megan Fox in her older years).

Disclaimer: I of course do not own Harry Potter

I stared up at my ceiling of small, upstairs bedroom, pondering whether I should go downstairs for my early dinner or not. Since I had been home all summer, I had tried my very best to avoid the Dursleys, but sometimes it was inevitable. For one, I was hungry, and two, I was lonely.

Then, I realized my company would be the Dursleys, and I decided I rather stay up here in my bedroom alone. Besides, I had my gorgeous, snowy white owl, Hedwig. I talked to her when I was lonely or bored, and she was quite a good listener.

Hedwig was my only real proof that I had spent the past year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Even after a whole year, I was still trying to process the fact that I was a witch. After eleven years of being your typical unwanted orphan, to have a giant gamekeeper named Hagrid burst into your shack out at sea shouting that you were a witch after running from hundreds of letters that had been chasing after you from some unknown relation, it was a bit of a shock.

Hello, understatement!

Okay: it was completely mind-blowing. Hogwarts had been more than I could have ever imagined. The headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, was simply the greatest man and wizard in the world, and my two best friends I had made were the only friends I had ever really had. And then there was the magic. Doing magic. With a magic wand. I felt like the luckiest twelve-year old girl in the world (for today was my twelfth birthday!).

Well, almost. It _was_ my birthday, but I never celebrated it, of course. However, I never had to spend the whole night in my room, pretending I didn't exist. Although it wasn't much of a change from normal days. Weren't normal kids birthdays supposed to be special?

 _I'm not normal,_ I quickly reminded myself. I defeated the Darkest Lord of all-time when I was merely an infant, after he had murdered my parents, leaving me with a famous lightning-shaped scar on my forehead. I was definitely not normal, even in the wizarding world.

Anyhow, the reason why I was spending the whole night in my room, pretending I didn't exist was because Uncle Vernon was inviting over the Masons, and if dinner went well, Uncle Vernon would have a very large deal signed. I was to stay out of the way, no matter the circumstances.

I was bored most of the time, for my uncle locked up my school trunk, books, and broomstick in my old cupboard under the stairs. _Great._ So, I wasn't going to practice Quidditch all summer and I couldn't even do my homework. It sounds ridiculous, but I was fascinated by the schoolwork we completed.

Anyway, here's where my second year of witchcraft begins, in my room pretending I don't exist, while the Dursleys got ready for their big dinner date.

"Haile!" came Aunt Petunia's sharp screech from downstairs.

I indifferently stood up and walked downstairs. There was a bowl of cereal waiting for me. Aunt Petunia watched me with hawk eyes as I poured the milk, making sure I didn't spill any. She stood near me while I nearly inhaled the cereal, and when I was done, she whisked away the bowl and spoon.

"Nice dress," I commented, eyeing her blue cocktail dress. In truth, she looked rather disproportional in it, but I wouldn't dare say anything.

"Hurry upstairs!" was the reply I received. While she peeked out the window, looking for the Masons' car, I stole a banana from the bowl of fruit on the counter by the fridge, and ran upstairs.

I was awfully skinny, but I had a large appetite. After several months of huge breakfasts, lunches, and dinners of Hogwarts, I was not used to eating so frugally. As I walked up the stairs, I thought the thought I had been thinking for the whole summer thus far.

 _Why hadn't Ron or Hermione or Hagrid written?_ Ron told me that he was going to write. Hermione and Hagrid wouldn't just leave me stranded, either. I shrugged, preferring to think that all had their reasons, and since Hedwig was not allowed out, I could not send her.

As I reached my room, I faintly heard the Masons arrive downstairs and I quickly shut the door and flung myself on the bed. From underneath me, came a small yelp. I jumped back up as though electrocuted.

I stifled a large scream. There was _something_ on my bed and I just _sat_ on it. "Oh, Dobby is so sorry!" came a squeaky voice, and, my face white and bewildered, I looked at the small creature I had landed on.

It looked like a little elf. It had large ears, humungous green eyes, wrinkly, brownish-greenish skin, and it wore a dirty, aged pillowcase. "What in Merlin's name…" I murmured.

The little character followed suit, and stood up. It bowed deeply, and spoke again. "Haile Potter! So sorry to have startled you! I am Dobby, the house-elf! Dobby, ma'am, just Dobby will do!" the elf squeaked, and I nervously glanced at the shut door.

"Um, Dobby, would you mind keeping your voice low?" I asked, politely. "And it's nice to meet you." I sat down on the bed, and stared at the little creature.

"Oh, it's Dobby's pleasure!" it shrieked, and then realized it disobeyed my orders and began to choke itself.

"Hey!" I hissed, bewildered. "Stop—it's okay!" I wrestled its arms away from its neck, and the elf looked at me with its huge eyes.

"Oh, thank you, Haile Potter. Us house-elves have to punish ourselves for every little thing! Just coming here was a terrible punishment." He (I'm presuming it was masculine) showed me his bandaged hands. I took in a sharp breath.

"Why?" I asked, puzzled. "Why do you have to punish yourself for coming here?"

"Oh, if Dobby's master knew…" Dobby said, shivering. "Dobby's punishment would be much, much worse." But his eyes shone as he looked up at me. "But Dobby _had_ to come. Dobby had to warn Haile Potter about the dangers ahead! There are terrible, terrible dangers, and Haile Potter must not—"

"Dangers?" I interrupted, skeptically. "Listen: no offense, but I don't even know you. I have no idea who sent you or if you could be lying. So, excuse me while I don't care about these so-called 'dangers' you speak of."

"No, no, no, Haile Potter," Dobby squeaked. "Haile Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby. Dobby only wants to help her; no one sent Dobby. Dobby doesn't lie. If Dobby should lie, Dobby should punish himself deeply! Dangers ahead, Haile Potter, dangers!" _Jeez, doesn't this thing ever speak in first person?_

"Look, _Dobby_ , it's nothing against you or anything. But what the bloody hell are you talking about?" I blurted out.

Dobby pointed at me. "Haile Potter must not go back to Hogwarts," he said, very dramatically.

I paused. I laughed. "Good one," I said, smiling. "No, seriously. Why are you here?"

Dobby shook his head. "Dobby is quite serious, Haile Potter, ma'am. There is a terrible plot, Haile Potter, that Dobby himself has known about for months! Haile Potter must not put herself in danger now! Haile Potter must not return to Hogwarts!" the elf screamed.

My eyes widened and I quickly covered Dobby's mouth. "SH!" I hissed. "You've got to be quiet. And what? A plot? Who? What is it?"

"Dobby can not tell," Dobby whispered, once I lowered my hand. "It is secret. All Dobby can tell you is…it is _not_ _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ …"

"What?" I hissed. I leaned back on my bed. "Not Vold—" I stopped short in case Dobby would scream if he heard his name. "I mean, if not You-Know-Who…then…then who?"

"Dobby can not speak of this any longer!" Dobby squealed.

"SH! Okay, okay, okay. But listen, Dobby, no matter what this…plot…is, I'm **going back to Hogwarts**. I can't not go," I told Dobby, helplessly. "It's my life…"

"Haile Potter must not go!" Dobby mumbled fearfully. "Haile Potter must not go to Hogwarts! Stay here, Haile Potter, stay here and be safe!"

"No!" I said forcefully. "I can't stay here with my relatives, Dobby! I have to see my friends…"

"Friends that don't even write to Haile Potter?" Dobby said mischievously.

I looked at Dobby with a suspicious look. "How do you know they haven't been writing?" I asked, annoyed.

Dobby pulled out a thick stack of envelopes from his pillowcase. "Haile Potter must understand why Dobby did it. If Haile Potter thinks that her friends don't write, she will not want to return to school."

"Give me them!" I exclaimed, reaching for them.

Dobby shook his head. "No!" he squeaked. "Haile Potter must promise she will not go back to Hogwarts first!"

"I won't do it. Give me _my_ letters, Dobby!" I demanded, furiously.

Dobby ran downstairs without another word and I frantically ran after him. I peered around the staircase where Dobby was sitting on the kitchen table, hovering Aunt Petunia's pudding.

My mouth dropped open. Magic! In the Dursleys' house! I'd be skinned alive and then brought back from the dead and killed again! "Dobby, no!" I squealed softly. "PLEASE."

"Haile Potter must say she will not return to Hogwarts," Dobby insisted stubbornly.

"I _can't_ , I can't _do_ that, just please—"

"Dobby has no choice. Dobby does this for Haile Potter's own safety."

My heart nearly beat through my chest, but the pudding was dropped and it smashed over the newly cleaned, white kitchen floor. My mouth dropped in horror again, and Dobby disappeared with a sickening crack.

I acted on instinct. I turned around and rushed upstairs, but before I reached my bedroom door, Uncle Vernon was climbing the stairs. "HOLD IT THERE, MISSY!" he yelled, his face a sickly purple and his mustache bristling.

"I didn't do it!" I screamed honestly. "I swear I didn't! There was this elf and he—"

"I'm SICK and TIRED of this nonsense! CLEAN IT UP! _CLEAN IT UP_ ," he bellowed, and threw me by the scruff of the neck down the stairs.

I landed swiftly on the second to last step, and as I hurriedly jumped the last two, the rest of the company appeared in the kitchen.

Aunt Petunia was looking frightened, Dudley dumbfounded, and the Masons confused and a little scared. "Who is this… _young lady_?" asked Mrs. Mason.

"I'm Haile!" I said, brightly, trying to regain my composure _. Okay, maybe the night isn't ruined completely. At least_ Dobby _is gone and_ _I can sneak Hedwig out tonight to explain to Ron and Hermione. I just have to clean this mess up and finish out the evening quiet._

That plan worked only for the next two minutes.

For two minutes later, a large barn owl came swooping in the living room window, dropping a letter on the coffee table, specifically in Mrs. Mason's ice cream bowl.

Mrs. Mason cried out in fear, and fled from the house in large sobs. Mr. Mason stood up abruptly and barked, "My wife is terribly afraid of owls, well, all birds, as a matter of fact. And would you look at the time…? Ten past eight. Looks like this evening has come to an…end, yes. Good-bye, Vernon, Petunia."

And he, too, rushed out of the house, grabbing his and his wife's coats.

There was a terrible, piercing silence. Seriously, who knew silence could be louder than noise?

I stood there, not daring to breathe.

Dudley waddled over to Mrs. Mason's ice cream bowl, and picked up the letter. He ripped it open and stared pointedly at his father.

His father walked over and snatched it from his son's hands. He eyed with his beady little eyes, evilly, and read the letter aloud with a forced serenity.

"Dear Ms. Potter, we have received intelligence that a Hover Charm was performed at your home at eight minutes past eight. As you should know, underage wizards are not permitted to perform magic outside school, and further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion—" He stopped short. " _Underage…wi—wizards…are not permitted to perform…ma—magic!"_

"Oh, did I forget to mention that?" I squeaked quietly, my roseate cheeks burning.

"I daresay you did," Uncle Vernon said through clenched teeth. "Have I got a plan for you, girlie. I'm locking you up in your room and you're not to return to that—that _school_ and if you try to magic yourself out, they'll expel you!" He laughed madly, and dragged an anguished me up the stairs and into my room.

He bolted up my door that very night. The next morning, I awoke to the sound of my window being fixed so that bars replaced the glass and a cat-flap being installed at the bottom of my door so food could be pushed through. Hedwig was my only companion and I lovingly shared with her the small amounts of food I received a few times a day.

I hadn't cried in months, but this had reached an all-time low. For three days straight, I cried. I had nowhere to go now. I couldn't return to Hogwarts. I couldn't leave Privet Drive without using magic, and then I would be shunned from the wizarding world. What was I to do?

On the third day of complete and utter misery, my plea was answered. I had fallen asleep in the afternoon, after crying myself to sleep, and I awoke to rattling. Irked, I looked over at Hedwig, but she was perched quite serenely, hooting at my window.

 _My bars were rattling_. And someone was rattling them!

"RON!" I croaked happily, and peeked through the bars. "How did you…why are you…HI!" My grin was literally stretched from ear-to-ear, my bright smile shining in the darkness, outlining my dimples that hadn't shone in weeks.

"Haile, good to see you! I sent you a million letters, what have you been doing?" he asked, brightly. I forgot how red his hair was, how silly his grin looked, and how many freckles covered his long nose.

I could not believe he was here. He was sitting in a car. In mid-air. Fred and George were in the front seats, and they waved. My jaw dropped.

"RON! IS THAT A FLYING CAR?" I squealed and then shut my mouth. "Bloody hell, if the Dursleys wake up…what _are_ you doing here?"

"Rescuing you! When you didn't answer my letters and Dad found out at work that you performed magic, I figured I'd find out what's going on myself. Hermione's been worried sick! Anyway, let's get this show on the road. Stand back."

George climbed to the back seat and expertly tied the rope tight on the bars.

I took a few steps back and watched silently as Fred revved up the car and pulled the bars out of the window with a large **_CLINK_** and a big _VROOM, VROOM,_ _ **VROOOOOOM**_ _._

"Hope that wasn't too loud," George apologized, as he quietly crawled through the window. "Where's your stuff, Haile?"

"Downstairs, under the cupboard. But my door's locked, and the cupboard…"

"Not a problem," Fred said, brightly, joining George and I in my bedroom. "We know how to lock-pick!" He pulled a safety pin out of his pocket and he began picking the lock on my door.

It opened quite easily, and I retrieved items from all around my room, including Hedwig, and handed them to Ron through my window. "You don't know how grateful I am," I gushed, handing him my snowy owl. "I've been locked up for three days and I've been miserable."

"What about the magic?" Ron blurted out.

"Oh, I'll explain in a minute, let me go help Fred and George," I told him, but George and Fred arrived a second later, lugging my trunk and broomstick up.

We loudly escorted my stuff through the window and into the car. Then, Fred helped me through the window and into the car, and George climbed in after me. Fred was the last one in, and just as we started the car again, Uncle Vernon burst his way through my door.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THIS?!" he bellowed, and ran to the window.

Fred pushed the gas pedal and we were off. "SEE YOU NEXT SUMMER!" I yelled over my shoulder. Fred, George, and Ron burst out laughing, and I joined in, too.

After they made me stop thanking them, I explained to them about Dobby's visit.

"House-elves usually come from old, rich families and manors. Maybe someone sent him as a prank. Do you have any enemies, or anything?" George asked.

"Malfoy," Ron and I said together, laughing.

"Malfoy?" George and Fred asked together, incredulously.

"Yeah," Ron and I said simultaneously, again. "Draco Malfoy," Ron added.

"His dad—Lucius Malfoy—was a huge supporter of You-Know-Who back in the day. Came back to our side after it was over, but that's a load of rubbish, Dad reckons," Fred explained.

"Doesn't surprise me," Ron barked.

"Yeah. Malfoy is the most evil git we've ever met," I agreed.

"I'd try to stay clear of him, Haile," George forebode. "They're bad news, those Malfoys…"

We flew for a while longer in contemplative silence.

"So, how's everyone been?" I asked casually a while later.

"I've talked to Hermione a bit," Ron said. "Like I said, she's having a good summer, but worried sick about you. We'll have to write her when we're home. Mum and Dad are good. Percy's been shut up in his room a lot…doing who knows what."

"I mean, there's only so many times you can polish a prefect badge," Fred said, rolling his eyes. He glanced at his compass, and changed the direction a bit.

"So, where'd you get the car?" I asked curiously.

"We, er, borrowed it," Ron said, shrugging. "It's my Dad's, but if Mum knew we had it…" He drew an imaginary line from one side of his neck to the other. "Dead."

I nodded, understandingly. "We'll be there in fifteen minutes," George noted, looking down. "We're lucky it's a cloudy night."

Soon enough, we started going lower and lower. The sun just peaked over the tip of the horizon as we landed in front of the coolest place I had ever laid eyes on. Several small farm animals ambled around a several stories high house that was almost lopsided and very messy-looking. It was so clumsily made that it was beautiful in a way.

"Home," Fred said, motioning to a sign that read: _The Burrow,_ in the front yard.

"I love it," I said automatically, finding that it was true. "Let's go in, shall we?"

They nodded agreeably, and started walking towards the house until…

Until we saw Mrs. Weasley standing in front of the door, arms crossed, her pink slipper tapping, her eyes looking dangerously evil, and her hair up in curlers.


	2. Chapter 2: Floo Powder Troubles

After a fair bit of yelling, Ron, Fred, and George standing there, taken aback and embarrassed, Mrs. Weasley turned quite pleasantly towards me and smiled warmly.

It was funny how a woman could change in a matter of seconds. "Hello, Haile, dear," she said, friendly. "How have you been?"

"Not so good," I admitted, "but I'm much better now that I'm here."

"Oh, sweetie, don't get me wrong!" Mrs. Weasley gushed, as she took me by the shoulder and led me into her home, the boys trailing behind. "I'm extremely happy to see you. What I'm _not_ happy about is the way you came. We would have been happy to come and get you ourselves, or met you at a station…"

"Well, thank you," I said, unsure of what to say. I looked around in amazement. I had never been inside a wizard family's home. There were wizard books, a magical clock, and wands lay around in the _wide open_. The Dursleys would have died! I looked on in awe.

After many dirty looks by Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, and Ron mumbled an apology.

Mrs. Weasley angrily began to make breakfast. I realized I was starving as I started smelling the delicious scents of bacon, eggs, and sausages. Ron handed me a glass of orange juice, and us four sat down to breakfast.

A second later, Ron's little sister, Ginny, appeared and her mouth dropped when she saw me. "Haile Potter?" Ginny said, dumbfounded. "At… _our_ house?"

"Hi," I said, between mouthfuls of sausage. I waved animatedly.

"Ron!" Ginny squealed, running over to the table. "So, you _weren't_ lying."

"What?" I asked, confused. I sipped some orange juice, and Mrs. Weasley shoveled more eggs onto my plate. I murmured thanks, turning back to Ginny.

Ron grinned. "She didn't believe me when I told her you were my best friend and we spent the whole year together," Ron said. I beamed.

Fred and George nodded. "And she didn't believe that we threw you from the seventh floor and you magically floated back up using your magnificent secret powers that we secretly knew you possessed," George said, winking at me.

"That's true, too!?" Ginny exclaimed.

"Sorry, Ginny, _no_ ," I said, shooting George and Fred a reproachful look. "I have no secret powers, unfortunately."

"That's questionable," Ron said quietly, and I knew what he meant, but didn't feel like getting into it.

"Think I'll go to bed," Fred said, pushing his empty plate away.

"Oh, no, you won't!" Mrs. Weasley said shrilly. "You have to de-gnome the garden."

Fred groaned and George began to protest. "Can I help?" I asked, generously.

"Oh, dear, you can go on up to bed," Mrs. Weasley told me, warmly.

"Oh, no," I said brightly. "I'm wide-awake. I'd love to see how it's done."

"Whatever sparks your wand," Mrs. Weasley said airily. "Let me check at what Lockhart has to say…" She began searching for a book in the living room.

Fred, George, and Ron groaned. "Not _again_ , Mum!" Ginny complained.

"Lockhart?" I questioned. I reached down to scratch my ankle.

"Gilderoy Lockhart," Mrs. Weasley said, blushing. "He's brilliant. He's an author." She flipped through a few pages of a book that had a tall, blue-eyed man on the cover, winking and smiling.

"Never heard of him," I said, shrugging. "Do you think he's good-looking or something?"

Fred and George pretended to wretch all over the kitchen floor, while Ron and Ginny shot out in laughter. "It's not just that," Mrs. Weasley said, defensively. "Go and do it yourselves, then. But get it done quick!"

Ron and I followed Fred and George out the front door again. It was now a bright, crisp summer morning. We walked around the house to the back, where we filed through a chain-link fence and arrived in a beautiful garden.

"Pretty!" I exclaimed, running over to a fountain. "And look, flowers!" I ran over to them. I put out a hand to pick one, but _something bit my fingers_.

I screamed, and Fred and George cracked up, laughing. "It's the gnomes," Ron pointed out, as I withdrew my hand quickly, observing two new bite marks imprinted on my index and middle fingers.

"Vicious little things," I remarked, and suddenly, George reached behind the bush with the flowers and plucked it out from behind.

I gasped. It was very ugly. It was only about two to three feet tall, multiple shades of light browns and tans, and it looked like a little, deformed human being. "Watch," Fred said, holding another one.

Fred and George whipped them around like lassos. I watched, fascinated, as they flung them out of the garden, way out into the green fields beyond the house.

I hurriedly found one behind the fountain. I hesitantly picked it up (it was sleeping), and when it woke up, it started squirming like mad. I struggled to keep holding it, and finally began to swing it around and around, until I became dizzy. I let it go, and heard approving whistles from Fred, George, and Ron I.

"Nice one, H," Ron said, impressed. "Come on, there's a lot more to go."

So, us four worked through the morning, gathering all the little gnomes we could and throwing them over the fence. They marched away, looking down and upset. I waved at them, and blew kisses.

"Oh, just in time!" Fred exclaimed, as we heard the door slam. "Come on, we might as well talk to Dad!"

We hurried inside, and I caught sight of Mr. Weasley chatting to Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen. "Dad," Fred said, happily. "Would you look at what the cat dragged in?"

"Can we keep her, please?" George mockingly begged.

Mr. Weasley's eyes caught sight of me. "Good heavens!" he exclaimed, jumping a bit. "Who's…is it Haile Potter? Oh, I'm so pleased to see you, but how on Earth did you…?" He looked at Mrs. Weasley for an explanation.

"Your sons," Mrs. Weasley began icily, "took your car. They flew it to Haile's house. And brought her back."

Mr. Weasley seemed flustered for a few moments. "Listen, Molly, I was going to tell you about the car—"

"I don't care about that!" she said, shrilly. "What I care about is that your sons flew it without telling us last night! Don't you have something to say!?"

"Oh, um, right. Boys—that was….er…very bad. Go to your rooms at once." He sounded stern, but the moment Mrs. Weasley, satisfied, turned her back, he whispered quietly to George, "How did it go?"

George gave him a thumbs-up and followed his twin up the stairs. Ron motioned to the stairs and us two proceeded upstairs too.

So, the next few days were very pleasant and enjoyable, indeed. I ate heartily, helped around the house without complaint, and played Quidditch freely with Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny. I even got some of my homework done with Ron, since he hadn't opened a book all summer either.

Finally, our letters from Hogwarts came, enclosing our supplies for the new coming year. I glanced down at it. "There must be a mistake," I said, rubbing my glasses. "All the books are by that guy Gilderoy Lockhart…"

"Oh, ours says it, too," Fred said, motioning to his own paper. "Bet the new Dark Arts teacher is a huge fan."

"Yeah," I said distantly, looking at all the books. _Wanderings with Werewolves? Travels with Trolls? Holidays with Hags?_ Is this guy for serious? I shrugged it off and looked up at Mrs. Weasley's concerned face.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked politely.

"Oh, no, dear," she said, waving it off.

"Lockhart's books are really pricey," Ron murmured to me. "And we have to get Ginny stuff for Hogwarts this year, too."

"Ginny?" I asked, turning around to look at her. We had hit it off pretty quickly the week I had been here, and she seemed to admire me.

"I'm starting Hogwarts this year," Ginny said, proudly, and I felt stupid I hadn't realized it earlier.

"Of course!" I exclaimed. "That's so exciting! Last year, I was so nervous, but luckily I had Ron and—"

"Well, it really was _us,_ you know, who took young Haile here under our wing," George said, lovingly.

"Oh, yes," Fred said, crisply, putting his arm around my shoulder and squeezing me tight. "We were attached at the hip all year, you could say. _Inseparable._ "

"Uh, no, we weren't!" I said, detaching myself from Fred's grip, in a juvenile sort of way. "Don't you remember that one time when you told me the library was down the left corridor, but instead I walked right into a—"

"Good morning," came a professional, dignified voice from the hallway, saving Fred and George, for Mrs. Weasley had begun listening to my story at that moment. "Oh, hello, Haile, didn't know you had arrived."

"I've been here for about a week," I told him, while Fred and George sniggered.

"Oh, have you? I've just been so busy, nice to see you," he chirped, and sat down at the table. "Hope you've been well." I nodded back. Fred and George were mockingly giving me bows and shaking my head very professionally.

"Oh, Ron, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, suddenly. "Hermione's answer came this morning." She handed Ron a letter, and Ron read it out loud to me.

" _'_ _Dear Ron, and Haile, if you've made it there in one piece, I hope you know it was very foolish to go and get Haile because you could get in a lot of trouble. Write me back as soon as possible—I've been worried sick. Oh, and I'm going to Diagon Alley next Wednesday—why don't we meet there? Love from, Hermione._ '"

"Well, next Wednesday it is," Mrs. Weasley said, brightly. "I'll go tell Arthur…"

The rest of the week I spent there was just as nice as the first. And the next Wednesday, we were woken up very early to go to Diagon Alley as promised.

"How are we going to get there?" I asked, suppressing a yawn, as Ron and I ambled down the stairs.

"Floo Powder, of course—oh wait, you've never traveled by it before, have you?" he asked, sleepily.

"No," I said, wrinkling my nose. "What's Floo Powder?"

"Oh, you throw some ashes into a fire and it transports you through the Floo network," Ron explained. It was early in the morning, so I didn't expect a detailed answer, but I still hadn't a clue what he was talking about.

"Let me demonstrate, Haile," George said, when we had all gathered around the fireplace in the living, and I had confessed my problem to George. He took a bit of powder from a flowerpot his mother was holding, and stepped into the fireplace, throwing the powder at the flames and yelled, "Diagon Alley!" and he was gone.

I was shocked. "Where did he go?" I asked, bemused.

"To Diagon Alley," Ron said, laughing. "Like he said."

"Weird…" I said, helping myself to some powder. "Alright, I'll try this." I threw it into the flames and a warm fire rose above me. "Diagon Alley," I choked out, for I swallowed some ash when I took a breath.

After experiencing the travel of Floo Powder, I will never, ever flush a goldfish down the toilet again—no matter if it's dead. It's the strangest thing to experience. I spun and spun and spun—I couldn't breathe—my elbow hit something hard—my head was spinning—then it was over.

I hit the ground hard, and I rubbed my sore bosom. "Ouch," I muttered, frustrated.

"What are you doing in here?" came a sharp voice.

I looked up, wiping soot off my face. However, I realized my hand was covered in soot itself and I probably just made myself look worse. I hurriedly covered my scar with my bangs. I didn't need that right now. "Uh…sorry, **Floo Powder troubles** ," I coughed.

I looked up and saw a greasy old man staring at me, disgustedly.

"You shouldn't be here, get out, you filthy child!" he said hurriedly. "Oh, no, here comes Lucius, go hide over there!"

I obliged, not understanding why I could not just walk out the door. I climbed into a near wardrobe, and left it open just slightly, so I could see who this Lucius was.

Turns out that 'Lucius', as he walked in the door, with a certain blonde jerkwad, was Draco's father. "Ah, Mr. Borgin," Lucius said, shortly. "Business today."

"Buying or selling?" Mr. Borgin asked, as if he went through this conversation often.

"Selling."

I lost interest in their conversation, but I watched Draco closely look around the shop, eyeing everything curiously. _Of course. Fred and George were saying…Lucius Malfoy…_

"What a piece of rubbish," Draco would occasionally mutter, while examining all the different knick-knacks and antiques around the shop. Or he'd interrupt his father's conversation with, "Can I have _this,_ father?" to which his father would silently shake his head dismissively.

Draco finally reached my hiding place. _Oh, bloody brilliant._ His hand reached out, but his father called him over before he touched the handle on the wardrobe. I breathed with relief. "Draco! We're leaving," Lucius said, shortly. "Thank you, Mr. Borgin. Good day."

Mr. Borgin waved as they exited the shop, and I stepped out of the stuffy wardrobe, sighing with relief. "That was _close_ ," I breathed. Mr. Borgin eyed me carefully.

" **Floo Powder troubles** , you said?" he asked me, suspiciously. "I see. Who are you?"

"Um…why couldn't I just walk out the door when the Malfoys were coming?" I countered, hoping he'd forget his question.

"They would have asked questions and I _hate_ questions," Mr. Borgin said, darkly. "Now, get out of my shop!"

I hurriedly shuffled out of the stop. What a grumpy man. Now, all I had to do is find out where I was, and where Diagon Alley was, so I could find the Weasleys. Feeling slightly optimistic, I began to stride down the streets with all the confidence I could muster, being covered in soot head-to-toe and completely lost.

A few men approached me, as I took a few steps down the alleyway. My heart sank and my confidence disappeared at once. "Well, well, well, who have we here?" one man asked, his hands shaking even though the weather was quite warm.

Another man frowned. "She is too small, she'll never be able to fight properly…"

"She'll do fine," said the third man. He then spoke to me. "Come, girl, we have plans for you! We'll explain it all—"

"HAILE, IS THAT YOU?" roared an incredulous voice from behind me. I whipped around and saw Hagrid, almost sprinting towards me.

"Hagrid! Oh, thank goodness, I—"

He picked me up without a word and carried me for a few minutes as we walked straight out of that—that place, and into Diagon Alley. I had been very close to the exit—it was only a passageway away—but I might've passed it by just the same. Thank goodness for Hagrid.

"Oh, sweet Merlin," Hagrid muttered, wiping sweat from his large forehead. "Why on Earth were you doing down in Knockturn Alley, Haile…haven't seen yeh all summer…never wrote back ter me, yeh didn't…what's been happenin'?"

I explained all about Dobby the house-elf, Ron coming to rescue me, and my bad experience with Floo Powder. "Now, if only I could _find_ the Weasleys," I finished, dusting off my pants a bit. "I look absolutely dreadful…"

"Haile!" came a voice to my right, and Hagrid and I looked around.

"Oh, there you are," said Ron, with Fred, George, Ginny, and his parents at his heel. I smiled broadly at the sight of them.

"I got off at a different fireplace, I suppose," I explained hurriedly, as they all rushed towards me.

"Where?" Ginny asked, curiously.

"Knockturn Alley," I said darkly, pointing to the alleyway where Hagrid had led me out of us.

"Oh, brilliant!" George exclaimed, as Fred whooped.

"We've never been allowed in," Ron said, with raised eyebrows. "What's it like?"

"Oh, you won't want to go in there!" I exclaimed frantically. "It's awful, I saw the Malfoys…" I added, as Mrs. Weasley began removing the soot from my clothing.

"Where did you see him?" Arthur Weasley asked at once. I looked up at him.

"Borgin and Burkes, I believe was the name," I said, shivering. "Horrible little shop, filled with little 'treasures' and such. Disgusting, really."

"Did he buy?" Mr. Weasley asked sharply.

"No…he was selling."

"Interesting," Arthur replied, nodding his head in my directions. Mrs. Weasley quickly scrubbed my face free of dirt and we were on our way.

"So, have you seen Hermione yet?" I asked, as we set off towards Gringotts, waving good-bye to Hagrid.

As if on cue, a very familiar, bushy-haired girl sprinted up us, panting. "Oh, Haile, Ron, hi!" she exclaimed, as I hugged her, squealing.

"How are you?" I burst out, happily. I was happy. I was back in the wizarding world with my best friends. And I was going back to Hogwarts.

"Fantastic; I'll come with you to Gringotts," Hermione decided, and she set off with us.

I waved excitedly to the goblins as I had done last year, and just like last year, they stared at me like they couldn't believe I existed and looked quite bemused at the same time.

However, my excitement faded tremendously when we reached the Weasleys' vault. Mrs. Weasley sadly emptied its contents, which weren't much, and when we arrived at mine, I felt extremely embarrassed and lucky to have such a fortune.

After Gringotts, everyone seemed to want to split up. Ron, Hermione and I ventured off on our own. We bought ice cream, looked at the pet shops, checked out the Quidditch equipment while Hermione went next door to a book shop, and finally, reached Flourish and Blotts to buy our Lockhart books.

"Oh, look!" Hermione exclaimed, pointing at a sign on the shop window. "He's here! He's giving autographs! Oh, we can actually meet Gilderoy Lockhart!"

She could hardly contain her excitement, and I laughed at her, while Ron looked repulsed. We hurried in, and to our delight, saw the Weasleys in the front of the line. We hurried to them, and Mrs. Weasley was beaming when she caught sight of us.

"Oh, there you are," she gushed. "We'll be able to meet him in just a moment…"

There was a photographer taking pictures, presumably for the newspaper, and a few men keeping the line in check. Then, Gilderoy Lockhart made his grand entrance. The crowd went wild.

He was the exact replica of the book Mrs. Weasley had in her home. He had perfectly curly, light brown hair, dazzling blue eyes, a perfect tan (I secretly wondered whether he had been to a tanning salon), and the brightest smile I had ever seen.

Ron and I covered our ears from the uproar. Mrs. Weasley hurriedly patted her hair and Hermione straightened her shirt. I giggled.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," Lockhart said, beaming at us all. "It is such a pleasure to—" He stopped short, his eyes falling on mine. I gulped.

"Oh, no," I muttered, closing my eyes. "Not here. Please."

"Oh, my goodness, it's Haile Potter!" Lockhart shouted directly at me.


	3. Chapter 3: Oh, Did It Whomp!

The crowd excitedly turned towards me and my cheeks burned. Lockhart seized my arm and pulled me up onto the platform he was standing on. "Oh, is it a pleasure to meet _you_!" he beamed at me, shaking my hand.

"I…" I began, but Lockhart cut me off.

"Now, Haile Potter, ladies, and gentlemen, I have a very important announcement to make. And with Haile here, I believe I can do it with the up-most confidence! See, young, lovely Haley will not only receive my entire works free of charge, but Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will be receiving the _real_ me. Yes, it's true; I have resumed the post of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!"

If I had thought the crowd went wild before, it was completely out of control now. Lockhart pulled me close in a side hug and I saw Hermione looking absolutely furious with envy. "Smile big, Haley," Lockhart said, looking at a camera nearby.

"It's HAILE," I snapped as it snapped our picture.

I wrenched myself from his grasp, not even bothering to thank him, because I was too embarrassed. Feeling rather awkward, I waved to him and climbed down. A man shoved the entire set of his works into my hands and I shoved them into Ron's arm once I stumbled over to him. "I'll buy my own, this is ridiculous," I mumbled, angrily.

"I should have known," said a mocking voice from my right. I turned and saw no other than Draco Malfoy. " _Haley_ Potter's always where the fame is." He was mocking Lockhart who had gotten my name wrong.

"Oh, shut up," I retorted, turning away.

"Oh, it's Malfoy," Ron said, coming up behind me, turning me back around.

"Ron Weasley, how goes it?" Malfoy said, with a mischievous smile. "These Lockhart books, they don't come cheap. Suppose your family will have to go hungry for months?"

"SHUT UP!" Ron and I roared, and Hermione, coming to my other side, clenched my arm.

"Oh, let's just go," Hermione said, desperately.

"Ron, Haile," Mr. Weasley said, coming up behind us. "What's all this?"

"If it isn't Arthur Weasley," Lucius Malfoy said, coming up behind Draco.

Since this party had grown bigger in a matter of a few seconds, I could tell it would not end well. I stood there, eyeing the two men, Draco, Ron, and I now quiet.

"Run along," Mr. Weasley said shortly to us. Ron, Hermione, and I, glad to have an excuse to scurry away, obliged.

Less than a minute later, as we tried to find Mrs. Weasley and Ginny through the crowd, we heard an enormous crash. "DAD!" George and Fred yelled from the entrance, just having entered the shop. "GET HIM, DAD! GET HIM!"

Mr. Weasley and Lucius Malfoy were in some sort of a brawl, knocking over bookshelves left and right, the shopkeeper in distress, the men around Gilderoy Lockhart trying to break it up, and Lockhart positively delighted with this sort of publicity that was bound to bring him more fame.

"Now, now men, no need to fight! There's plenty of autographs to go around," Lockhart said, beaming.

 _What an idiot_ , I thought, turning back to Mr. Weasley. Hagrid appeared out of nowhere, pulling the two men apart, and Mrs. Weasley shuffling Arthur and the kids out of the shop faster than you could say 'Magical Me'.

"What on Earth were you thinking?" Mrs. Weasley began to scold Arthur, as Hagrid shook his head dismissively. We ambled down the road back to the fireplace where they had arrived.

Fred and George were talking excitedly of the fight, and Ron and I kept glancing backwards. Hermione was already reading her Lockhart books.

The day had sort of gone by fast and quickly for me, and I felt almost dizzy walking back. _Oh, great. Floo Powder_ , I thought, sickeningly. I would always try to avoid it as means of travel.

September was approaching before I could properly get used to living in a real wizard's home. I was very excited to go back to Hogwarts, but I was also hesitant to leave The Burrow. It had become more of my home than anywhere in the past couple weeks.

By the time we had reached King's Cross, on the morning of September 1st(by means of the Ford Anglia, although we didn't fly; we drove), we were running extremely late. Percy went first into the barrier, and Fred and George next. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley decided to go with Ginny, which left Ron and I last.

"Come on, together we go," Ron said, glancing at the clock, which looked eerily as if it were already 11. "We have a minute left!"

We ran towards the barrier at full speed, frantically hurrying, confident we would make it through, until we actually arrived at the barrier.

CRASH.

We were deflected, apparently. Both of our trolleys were flung backward, Hedwig's caged knocked over, our trunks flying everywhere, and we were knocked to the floor ourselves.

"OW!" Ron yelled a second later, and I huffed in pain.

"What the bloody hell was that?" asked a nearby guard demanded. "Think it's funny, do you?"

I leapt to my feet and grabbed Hedwig. "Poor baby…" I cooed, and she hooted in a very pissy way. "You have every right to be mad at me, baby. I'm sooo sorry."

"Haile, what are we to do?" Ron hissed, as passerby stopped staring at us, and continued walking. "If we can't get through the barrier, we can't go to Hogwarts!"

"Maybe we should wait for your parents, they'll know what to do," I told him, as I started collecting my stuff and placing it back on the trolley. Ron followed suit, but shook his head.

"We don't have time! We'll lose the train!" he said, frantically. Then his eyes widened. "Let's take the car."

"What?" I asked blankly. "How will your parents get back, then?" I dismissed this quickly.

"They can Apparate, Haile. And we can make the car invisible!" Ron exclaimed. My ears perked up at this. "Come on, we don't have a choice!"

"You're right," I said, hopelessly. "Come on, let's go."

We practically sprinted back to the car, pushing our trolleys all the way, and repacked our things. Ron got into the driver's seat and I got into the passenger's. He pushed the invisibility button and all of a sudden, the car and our bodies disappeared.

"Whoa," we said together, like the two twelve-year olds we were.

Ron started the car, and slowly drove us into the air. We flew extremely high, and I was beginning to feel nervous. It was strange not seeing the actual car beneath you. Going up, the car struggled a bit, and the invisibility flickered.

"Oh, no!" Ron groaned. Thankfully, the car stopped there, and once Ron jammed on the acceleration, the car zoomed towards the clouds and into the bright sunlight, once again concealed by the invisibility. It was a gorgeous day, and I grinned at the view.

We found the train easily, and Ron had no problem following it from up above. We enjoyed ourselves thoroughly, eating candy we found in the glove compartment, turning on the radio, and talking about what everyone would say when we would land smoothly on the front lawn.

However, we began to grow tired of sitting in this car several hours later when we were thirsty, exhausted, and hot. "It can't be much longer," Ron muttered, more to the car than to anyone else.

The car was beginning to die. It had lost its full speed an hour ago, and was slowly becoming slower and slower. The sky was now dark, and Ron and I began to grow impatient.

"Where _is_ it?" I wondered, and then my eyes caught sight of the castle to the left. "Ron, over there! We're headed in the wrong direction!"

Ron's face lit up and he carefully turned the car, the Ford Anglia churning and whining loudly the entire time. Ron put his foot on the accelerator a little harder and the car jotted forward a little, and then gave its biggest whine yet. My stomach dropped, but luckily the car didn't.

We continued at an even slower pace towards the castle. We made it to the lake, but when we were over it, the car finally gave its last jolt and died completely.

We had lost total control of the car. It was hurdling towards the Hogwarts castle. We yelled and screamed, completely shocked.

I reached across Ron and grabbed hold of the wheel, turning it so it just narrowly missed the castle. We plummeted at full speed instead towards a humungous tree.

We both yelled at the top of our lungs, and I somehow remembered to reach back and shield Hedwig from the crash.

CRASH.

My head banged against the window a few times, throbbing horribly, while Ron was flipped upside down, holding a snapped wand, groaning. I looked out the dark window, and managed to see that we had landed in a tree.

"Are you hurt?" I asked, rubbing my temples. I clearly thought the worst was over.

"Oh, my wand…" Ron moaned, showing me the broken wand. "I'll never—"

CRUNCH.

A large branch had just hit the car with an enormous amount of power. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WAS THAT?" I screamed, as we were hit for the second time.

The car started to descend slowly from the tree, causing me to scream, and Ron to yell out in panicky terror. "WHAT'S HAPPENING?" Ron bellowed, as we were hit again. "We'll be killed!"

"GET US OUT OF HERE!" I shrieked frantically at nobody in particular, but the car's lights and engine reactivated, and the car shot backward, and descended downwards a hundred yards away, landing roughly.

"Oh, oh Merlin," Ron panted, sprawling on the grass.

"What a good car!" I gushed, patting it. However, the car was done with us. Quite frankly, I couldn't blame it.

After shooting our trunks out at us, it sped off as fast as it could towards the Forbidden Forest.

"Haile," Ron gasped, sitting up, still holding his hopelessly broken wand, "we have the most stupidest ideas, you know that, right?"

"Oh, Ron," I laughed. "It was kind of fun…even though it was dangerous and really dumb. Let's get back up to the school. We're here, aren't we?"

"What's Dad going to say about the car?" Ron moaned, as we dragged our trunks up to school. I shot him a sympathetic look.

We slowly opened the large entrance doors to the castle, and difficulty pulled our trunks along. We looked around and saw no one. "Let's see the Sorting, then," Ron said, moving towards the Great Hall.

I began to follow him, when a hand on my shoulder held me back. "Come. With. Me," came a short, cold voice behind me.

Severus Snape was clutching my shoulder in a death grip, and I stared into his dark eyes that were imbued with hatred. Ron turned around too, and his eyes widened. "Are we to be in trouble, then?" Ron asked apprehensively.

Snape gave a tut, and motioned for us to follow him. We followed him through a cold stairway that led downstairs to the dungeons. We ascended down an even chillier passageway and finally into Snape's office. I shivered.

"So. _So._ Just _had_ to make an entrance, didn't we? Oh, and don't pretend you don't have any idea what I'm talking about, either. You were seen! By seven Muggles total. Yes, it was in the paper!" He slammed down a newspaper that bore a title, **Flying Ford Anglia Mystifies Muggles.**

"Uh oh," I mumbled, kicking Snape's desk softly.

"That's not all, is it? That _tree_ you crashed into happens to be a very special monument of Hogwarts: The Whomping Willow."

At this, Ron and I cracked up. Then, hearing the other laugh, we burst out in hysterics. "The _Whomping_ Willow!" I cried, slapping my knee.

" **Oh, did it** ** _whomp_**!" Ron snickered uncontrollably.

"SILENCE!" he roared, and Ron and I tried our best to cease our laughter. "I would expel you right here and now, if I had the authority." That wiped the smiles off our faces. The mirth left me as quickly as it came. _We could be expelled?!_ "Yes, Potter, expelled," Snape snapped, seeing the look on my face. "I'll fetch your Head of House, and _she_ can decide. Wait here."

Ron and I looked at each other in horror as Snape swiftly left the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. "What are we to do?" Ron gulped. "My parents'll kill me if I'm expelled! I'm in enough trouble already!"

"If I'm expelled, I have nowhere to go but the Dursleys'! I'd rather live in the Forbidden Forest!" I complained worriedly.

When Snape returned with Professor McGonagall at his heel, Ron and I straightened up. "Explain yourselves," she said evenly, her mouth thin and her nostrils flaring.

Ron and I did our best to explain how the barrier had sealed itself before we could get through, and how we had no other way to get to school.

"What a foolish initiative you took," McGonagall snapped. "You could have waited for Ron's parents, or sent us a letter by owl. You did the worst possible thing you could have done in that particular situation."

Before I could answer with a pitiful reply, Albus Dumbledore entered the room.

He looked exactly as I remembered him. However, he looked extremely grave, and when he spoke, his voice evoked disappointment. "Please explain why this happened."

Ron and I repeated the story once more, this time more modest and quietly than before. Dumbledore sighed once it was over, and stared us through his half-moon glasses, as if trying to figure us out.

"We're expelled, aren't we?" Ron said sadly, breaking the silence.

"Our stuff is right outside the door," I muttered, my heart dropping.

"We're not expelling you!" McGonagall exclaimed, quite bemused. She almost let out of a chuckle. "However, you both get a detention."

Ron and I looked at each other, excitedly, not believing our luck. We high-fived, grinning like we had just won the lottery.

"A detention?" Snape repeated, utterly dumbfounded. "Headmaster, these kids broke several school rules while performing this foolish—"

"I am aware, Severus," Dumbledore said, simply. "However, Professor McGonagall has already issued her punishments. Now, let's return to the feast to watch the Sorting, shall we?"

We all returned to the feast, and I could have sworn Snape tried to trip me on the way up the stairs, but no one else noticed.

The Sorting began as soon as Dumbledore was settled. Everyone stared, but didn't dare interrupt the Sorting as we sat down.

Ginny Weasley was sorted into Gryffindor, of course, and I cheered loudly for her, and the rest of the first year Gryffindors. During dinner, we retold our tale excitedly, while everyone around us listened intently.

Dean and Seamus patted us on the back, and Lee Jordan exclaimed, "BRILLIANT!"

"Why didn't you bring us for?" Fred demanded, miserably.

"Yeah, Ron, thanks a lot!" George pouted.

"No, we couldn't get through—"

"So, it's true then?" Hermione's face appeared over a Lockhart book. "You arrived to school by a flying car?"

"Yes," Ron and I said together. A few people cheered. Ron and I suppressed grins.

"Well, you shouldn't be getting praised for it, and you most certainly should be grateful that you weren't expelled," she snapped, and went back to her reading.

Ron and I took huge bites of pudding and pretended we didn't hear her. "She didn't even hear about that mad tree, either," Ron muttered in my ear, winking. I giggled.

Everyone walked back up to the common room together, and Ron and I were sort of heroes that night. Hermione went to bed straightaway, but Lavender, Parvarti and I stayed up a bit more talking more about my ludicrous tale and our summers.

Finally, we shut off the lights and changed into our bedclothes, and drifted off into sleep.

The next day was chaos, starting with the morning. I overslept completely, and only woke up when Lavender and Parvarti were leaving.

I jumped up as if electrocuted and grabbed my clothes, bringing them to the bathroom. I took a five-minute shower, and pissed off already, I got dressed. I ran my fingers through my wet hair briefly, not even bothering to comb it. It was a disaster, but I had no time.

I grabbed my school bag and rushed downstairs to the Great Hall, almost feeling optimistic. I wasn't _that_ late. I entered the Great Hall as most people were either in the middle of, or finishing, breakfast. However, as I strode up to the Gryffindor table, everyone looked as though they had been petrified.

"What's wrong?" I questioned Ron, as everyone was looking towards his direction.

He held up shakily a red envelope. "Howler," Ron gulped.

"Open it!" Neville urged. "It'll be worse if you don't. Go on."

"What's a—" I began to inquire when Ron opened the envelope.

Without warning, an uproarious amount of noise shot from the envelope as it shot up into the air and bellowed the voice that sounded peculiarly like Mrs. Weasley. Everyone looked around as the voice screamed and screamed about Ron's foolish and nature, and to my dismay, Mr. Weasley's trouble at work.

It was over soon enough. Once it was done, most people went back to their breakfast, and I sat down, facing Ron. "Oh, I feel terrible," I said, with my hands over my face.

Ron didn't even speak. Hermione looked up from her book, almost satisfied, and took her course schedule from Professor McGonagall who was passing them out. We had Herbology with the Hufflepuffs first thing, so we set off for the greenhouse.

As we ambled over to towards the greenhouses, Ron seemed to recover a bit, and by the time we reached the Hufflepuffs and Professor Sprout, Hermione, Ron, and I were in good spirits once again.

"Hello, dearies!" Professor Sprout exclaimed, beaming at all of us. She apparently had been engaged in conversation in Professor Lockhart, who was at her side, and she kept shooting him annoyed glances.

"Oh, hello, children!" Lockhart burst. He smiled his most winning smile and tapped Professor Sprout on the shoulder. "Oh, you don't mind if I borrow Haile for a moment, do you?"

"By all means," she muttered, shooting me a sympathetic glance. "When you're done, meet us in greenhouse three." Everyone looked quite excited at this prospect, and followed her to the new greenhouse.

Lockhart pulled me aside and beamed at me. "Haley," he said, closing his eyes and let his gleaming, white teeth do the talking. "Oh, could only blame myself when I heard. Gave you that one taste of fame—the front page, of course—and you were begging for more! Oh, but dear, you can't start _flying cars_ to get noticed! Listen here, when I was your age—"

I cracked up. "No, Professor, you don't understand!" I exclaimed. "I hate publicity, I didn't fly that car to get _noticed,_ I—"

"Listen," he said, continuing on as if he hadn't heard me, "I know you've already been a tad bit publicly recognized with the whole Girl-Who-Lived thing. And I can't pretend not to know that you understand the fact that winning the Most-Charming-Smile Award five times is _so much better_ than that. However, Haley, you're going to get there. You will. Just take it easy…your smile is, well, hardly sufficient enough, but perhaps in time, you'll get there. I believe they offer braces for children your age?"

And with a hearty wink, he left me standing there, dumbfounded. I looked toward a nearby greenhouse window that reflected myself clearly, and smiled.

My teeth were actually quite straight and nice-sized, not to mention white. I also had very attractive dimples that were displayed every time I flashed a grin. I shrugged this factor off. I didn't really care too much about my looks.

Then, after I had my hysteric laughter about the conversation, I entered greenhouse three, where Professor Sprout was teaching about Mandrakes.

After the introduction, we were to pot the little earth creatures ourselves, and a Hufflepuff Muggle-born named Justin Finch-Fletchley joined Ron, Hermione, and I.

"It's an honor to meet you," Justin said, grinning at me. "That Lockhart is something, isn't he?"

"Oh, I think he's all talk," I said, waving it off. Hermione shot me a reproachful look, but we continued with the potting.

After Herbology, the Gryffindors set off for Transfiguration, and found that the curriculum was to be much more difficult this year. Only Hermione successfully turned her beetle into a button.

Ron had the most trouble, of course, with his broken wand.

After we were done being tortured by beetles and buttons, we proceeded down to lunch. I ate a large lunch, not having had enough time to eat much breakfast, and then, we set off for Defense Against the Dark Arts.


	4. Chapter 4: Come To Me

"Hello, Haile," came a small voice as I was about to leave the Entrance Hall to Defense Against the Dark Arts. I turned around, and there stood a small boy, presumably a first-year, holding a Muggle camera. "I'm Colin Creevey in Gryffindor. May I have a picture with you? So I can prove I've met you and all. Maybe you could sign it, too!"

"Uh, listen, Colin, I'm on my way to class," I said dismissively, "but I'd be happy to talk to you later on." I gave him a heart-warming smile and continued on to class.

However, as we reached the classroom door, I felt someone ruffle my hair roughly. It was Draco Malfoy. "Signed photos?!" he cackled incredulously. "Can I have one, Potter? Oh, please?"

"Oh, shut up!" I snapped, flattening my mess of a hair. "You know I hate that." I narrowed my eyes at him.

"You might want to fix your hair, though, you know, before the photo opt," Draco said, snickering. "Do you even _own_ a comb?"

I felt my extremely messily curled hair. I forgot I had barely time to do anything to it this morning, and I hurriedly pulled it back in a ponytail, glaring at Malfoy.

"Hey, everyone! Potter's giving out signed photos!" Draco yelled to the big group of people approaching the classroom. "Oh, and look, she's put that rat's nest of that thing she calls 'hair' away!"

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Ron yelled. "Or I'll curse you!" He then regretted his words, feeling his broken, Spellotaped wand in his pocket.

"Oh, I'm trembling in my shoes," Malfoy whimpered sardonically. "Come on, Crabbe, Goyle, let's go before Potter offers to sign our textbooks."

Lockhart opened the classroom door and asked, "What's all this now?"

"Potter is giving out signed photos," Malfoy sneered, and him, Crabbe, and Goyle ran away.

Lockhart turned to me, eyes widened, and I smacked myself in the forehead. "Oh, of course she is. Well, who has the camera? We'll both pose and sign…"

I huffed angrily and walked in the classroom, Ron and Hermione at my sides. "For Merlin's sake," I muttered, sitting down in a desk at the back of the room.

While the rest of the class filed in, Lockhart said to me, "Haley, dear, you really shouldn't pull your hair back like that. The camera's always waiting…perhaps you could borrow some of my styling mousse."

I slammed my head on the desk while everyone laughed.

Lockhart called out seat assignments once we were all inside the classroom, and of course, I was directly in front of his desk. I banged my head on the desk. _Fame sucks._

He grinned broadly at us, and then spoke. "My name," he started, and grinned again. "is Gilderoy Lockhart. Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and my most successful achievement: five-time winner of the _Witch Weekly's_ Most-Charming-Smile Award."

Were we supposed to clap or something? 'Cause everyone just stared at him, waiting for him to say something worthwhile for _us_. Hermione, and a few other girls, however, were staring dreamy-eyed up at him, hanging out to every last word.

He walked to his desk, and lifted up a stack of crisp, white papers. "This, friends, is a little quizzie poo for you! It's all about me—that is to say, my books. Just to see who's on the marker."

He passed them out and said, "Thirty minutes starting now!"

I didn't know a single question, so I answered random things, like, to question number #34, 'Does Gilderoy Lockhart have a secret, and if so, name it.' I answered, _Yes, he got cosmetic whitening twice before he won the Smile Award thing._ I had a lot of fun with it.

For question number sixty-six, 'What is Gilderoy Lockhart's ideal birthday present?', I answered, _A tanning bed coupon with a corresponding hair and nails treatment at the local spa._

"Time's up," Lockhart said briskly, thirty minutes later. "Well, well, well. Shows how much you know!" After going through the papers and awarding Hermione points for full marks. "Oh, and everyone, just for clarification, my favorite color is _not_ violet or honey yellow. It's _lilac_. And, whoever said this, I do not enjoy tanning beds—they're terrible for the skin…oh, it was you, Haley, nice try, nice try, but I never did get cosmetic whitening…"

"IT'S HAILE!" I shouted but Lockhart ignored me.

Seamus, who was sitting on my left, was shaking with silent laughter, as was Dean in the back of the class. I turned around and caught Ron's eye, who was staring at Lockhart with utter disbelief. It made me crack up.

"Now, everyone, it _is_ my job to teach you to defend yourself against the most terrible creatures known to wizardkind. So, please, as I uncover these vicious creatures, I must ask you remain calm." He revealed a covered cage from behind his desk.

He whipped off the cover in a dramatic fashion. Inside the cage were little electric blue, little fairy-looking things. "Cornish pixies," Lockhart said, loudly.

Seamus and I glanced around and finally caught each other's eye and burst out in laughter.

"Oh, real vicious!" Seamus snorted.

"Yeah, really threatening," I said, facetiously as one stuck its tongue out at me.

"Oh, don't judge by size," Lockhart said, winking at me. "Alright, if you're so sure…go!" He opened the cage, and the pixies flew EVERYWHERE. They attacked Neville, knocked books, shelves, desks, and trashcans over, and threw ink and pencils at people.

Lockhart tried a few spells on them, but none seem to work, and when one of the pixies stole his wand and threw it out the window, he cowered under his desk. I threw him a disgusted look.

I ran over to Neville, and attempted to help him. The windows were broken within minutes. The entire class was in a rampage. Finally, the bell rang, and the entire class ran from the room, including Hermione, who was untangling a pixie from her hair.

Only Seamus and Dean stayed behind to help me get Neville down from the chandelier. Lockhart grabbed his coat and hat and said shakily, "Round the last few of them up, will you? Ta-ta!" and left.

Seamus and Dean swore angrily, and we finally got Neville loose. The pixies flew around us, luckily not so interested in us as they were wrecking the classroom.

"Can you believe this guy?" Dean hissed, as he helped Neville up. "What a fake!"

"Seriously," Seamus said, in his Irish accent. "Does he actually expect people to believe him? Can't even round up a batch of little fairies, but oh, he fought vampires and werewolves, and what not."

"I think it's only the girls that really like him," Neville said, as we grabbed our stuff and left the classroom.

All three of them nodded and turned towards me. I held up my hands in surrender. "I personally hate the man," I said easily.

A week later, as I had just begun adjusting to my classes, Hermione woke me up at the crack of dawn. She shook me quietly, as not to wake Parvati or Lavender.

"What?" I asked, groggily, looking up at her. It was still dark outside. She looked quite worn herself.

"There's a boy at the bottom of the stairs, asking for you. He can't come up to the dormitory. I believe it's Oliver Wood, actually," she said, rather grumpily, but curious.

I groaned. "Not Quidditch practice?" I moaned, getting out of bed reluctantly, and climbing down the stairs. He was waiting at the bottom, rather anxiously.

"There you are!" he said brightly. "Quidditch practice!" he added, confirming my fears as he looked at my half-closed eyes and slightly vacant expression. "Come on, meet you down at the field in five."

I almost laughed as he walked away, and almost willed myself to crawl back in bed. However, my other half, the Quidditch playing half, begged me to get dressed, grab my Nimbus 2000, and go out to the Quidditch field. I listened to my Quidditch half, and was down with the rest of the team in ten minutes.

"What took you?" Oliver chirped, as I ambled in the locker room. The rest of the team was already there, most looking like me: tired and grumpy.

He launched into an animated lecture, informing us with confidence and excitement of how this season would go, that we would finally win, and showing us new moves and techniques that were sure to bring us the win.

When he was finished, Fred was snoring on George's shoulder, and George himself nodding his head in sleep. Alicia was twirling her hair, inattentively, while Angelina and Katie actually had tried to pay attention.

When we actually started flying, it was much more enjoyable. However, we only flew for about five minutes before Katie dropped the Quaffle in mid-catch to dismount. The rest of us followed suit.

The Slytherin Quidditch team approached, wearing humungous smirks on their faces, and carrying brand new Nimbus 2001 broomsticks.

"No," Oliver said simply, as they stood a few feet away. "I booked it."

"And so did we," Flint, the captain, remarked, waving a piece of parchment in the air that was clearly signed by Snape.

I kicked the ground angrily. Then, Malfoy made himself seen in the front of the pack. "Oh, Potter, glad to see you've continued wearing your hair back, now we can see your lovely—" he coughed "UGLY!"—"face."

"What?" I barked. " _You're_ on the Quidditch team?"

"Seeker," Malfoy said proudly, and the other boys clapped him on the back. "And as you can see, my father generously supplied the team with new broomsticks."

"At least no one had to _buy_ their way in on Gryffindor," came Hermione's voice from my side. I hadn't noticed her and Ron arrive. "They got in with pure talent."

"Why would anyone care what you have to say, you filthy little Mudblood!" Draco sneered, recovering quickly.

Now, Hermione and I appeared to be the only ones that had no idea what was so bad about what he said, but apparently it was bad. Fred and George lunged at him while Flint lunged at _them_ to hold them back, all three girl Chasers shrieked with outrage, and Ron pulled out his wand and pointed it at Malfoy, angrily, as light shot out of it.

However, Ron's dinky spell backfired, and it hit himself instead. Almost at once, Ron belched and out of his mouth came a huge, disgustingly slimy slug. He bent over on all fours, and so did the Slytherin team—in hysterics.

Hermione and I nodded at each other, and seized both his arms and lifted him up. He continued to puke slugs and Hermione pointed her free, weak arm at Hagrid's hut. "He'll know what to do," Hermione pointed out, so we set off, dragging the sick Ron with us.

Hagrid was more than helpful. He invited us in and let Ron have his very own bucket to throw up his slugs in. I felt rather bad for him; it must have been a horrible, not to mention traumatizing experience.

"What did you do it for, Ron?" Hagrid asked, and Hermione and I nodded, wanting to know the same thing.

"He called her…a Mudblood," he choked out, wiping his mouth.

Hagrid's kind face turned furious. "Say it ain't so!" he growled. "Would've done the same thing meself, Ron. What a foul git, he is."

"What does it matter?" Hermione cried frantically. "It's just a name…"

"It's the most insulting thing to say to anyone!" Ron exclaimed. "Dirty blood, you see…purebloods think they're so much better than everyone else!" He threw up a few more slugs.

"Oh, I see," I said, tapping my chin. "Well, what a jerk, but I'm sure Hermione doesn't care. I mean, Hermione's the best in our year and plenty of purebloods aren't half as bright."

Hermione beamed at me. After chatting with Hagrid about the ludicrous Professor Lockhart and Hagrid's newly grown pumpkin patch, we left to go to lunch in the Great Hall. I was starving, and Ron had thankfully stopped puking. I didn't know how he had the appetite to eat, but I didn't question.

Professor McGonagall stopped us in front of the Great Hall. "Detentions tonight, Potter, Weasley. Weasley, you'll be with Mr. Filch in the trophy room, and Potter you'll be in Lockhart's office."

"What?!" both Ron and I cried angrily.

"Is there something wrong?" McGonagall asked, sternly.

"Well, can't I be in the trophy room, too?" I whined.

McGonagall looked at me strangely. "Lockhart requested you himself, no. Eight o'clock sharp, both of you."

During lunch, Ron and I complained about our detentions, and did as much homework as we could before it was time to leave that night. Ron grudgingly ambled away with Mr. Filch at the Entrance Hall while I continued on to Lockhart's office.

He was quite pleased to see me and I spent the next four hours sealing envelopes and listening to Lockhart's conceited rambles about fame. I was beginning to get extremely drowsy, when I heard a voice; the scariest, coldest voice I had ever heard.

 _"_ _Come…let me rip you…_ _ **come to me**_ _, now…let me kill you…"_

I jumped out of my seat. "What was that?" I gasped, my heart thumping in my chest.

"What was _what_?" Lockhart asked, his expression confused.

"That voice!" I exclaimed.

"What voice? You must be tired, Haile, it's nearly midnight! Go on up to bed, now," he said, waving brightly.

I left his office feeling rather shaken and hurried down the dark corridors to the Entrance Hall where I saw Ron walking up the stairs. "Ron!" I said, running to him in relief.

"What's the matter, Haile?" he asked, seeing my pale face and shaking hands.

"I heard this voice…it was going to kill someone," I said, explaining my story more fully after seeing his puzzled face.

"That's weird," Ron contemplated after I was done. "Hope you're not going mad, Haile! It's late, maybe you were just daydreaming. Let's go to bed, I'm exhausted."

Listening to his advice, we hurried back to the common room and went straight up to bed, and I forgot about the strange voice I had heard.

October arrived with a rush of chilly, stormy weather. Quidditch practice was a nightmare these days; especially with the Slytherins zooming through the air on their Nimbus 2001 broomsticks. Schoolwork was the usual: challenging, but nothing we couldn't handle with Hermione.

However, on late Halloween afternoon, as I walking in from a particularly horrible Quidditch practice—it was rainy, and the ground was muddy—I tracked mud all over the Entrance Hall. I would have fled quickly, however, I saw Ginny exiting the Great Hall from dinner.

"Oh, hey," I said, smiling at her. "How's it going?"

"Honestly, Haile, not too well," Ginny said, softly. "I've been quite sick, to tell you the truth…"

"There _has_ been a cold going around," I said, feeling her forehead. "Hm. You do look pale, Ginny. Maybe you should go to the Hospital Wing."

She smiled weakly at me. "Somehow I think this isn't just a cold," she said, quite mysteriously, and gave a wave. She walked up the stairs, just as Filch walked down them.

"Oh, great," I muttered.

"What are you doing?! Tracking mud all over the place! I've had it! I've had it up to here! Come with me, you!" he shouted, and I had to choice but to follow him up the stairs into his office.

While he shuffled through a variety of doors to find my file, I took the chance to look around his room. I was quite disturbed by a few of the contents; such as chains and manacles.

"Ah, where are you?" Filch muttered, his head buried in his vast, wooden cabinets lined up on the west side of the room.

I glanced at his desk, and was quite curious as it to what I saw. In big black, cursive letters, read the words ' _Kwikspell: A Squib's Guide to Beginner Magic'._

I didn't dare ask him about why he had a Beginner's Guide to Magic on his desk, and whatever a Squib was. He hastily hurried back to his desk, with my file clutched in his hands.

"Ah, now, let's see!" Filch said, opening it up. I groaned, and thought of the Halloween feast that was probably taking place quite soon. The sun was setting. "I'd like you to wait here while I discuss with your Head of House what to do."

He left, and while he was gone, I took the opportunity to read more about Kwikspell. Apparently, a Squib was a non-magic person born from a wizard and witch. They could not perform magic, but Kwikspell was supposedly a way to do simple spells and things.

A half an hour later, while the sky was darkened, and I was dozing off in the uncomfortable, wooden chair, I heard it again.

 _"_ _Rip…tear…kill…"_ Its icy voice paralyzed my body and my heart dropped several feet. _"_ _I smell blood…I SMELL BLOOD!"_

I jumped up, afraid, and then sat down again, covering my head with my arms.

McGonagall came in the next few seconds. "Oh, Haile, what are you doing here?" she asked, sharply.

"Filch caught me tracking mud," I said, shakily, rubbing my bloodshot eyes. "Didn't he find you?"

"No—it's just awful—I've been trying to find him—never mind, now, just come with me, you must see this," Professor McGonagall said, and I followed her brisk pace down the corridors, still a bit shaken from the voice.

I didn't understand; was I imagining this? The voice…it was so evil…it sounded like it was about to kill someone. Was I going mad? What was wrong with me?

Then, we turned a corridor and stopped short. My mouth fell open. That's when I _knew_ I was not imagining it.

An immense crowd of people, teachers and students included, were beleaguering a limp cat hanging from a wall, with words written in blood: **_The Chamber of Secrets Has Been Opened. Enemies Of The Heir, Beware._**


	5. Chapter 5: For a Good Reason

I started shaking again, not even knowing what the Chamber of Secrets was, but knowing that… _that_ thing I had heard had attacked this cat. Filch was sobbing on his knees in front of the wall. "Mrs. Norris…oh, my baby…"

I ran over to Ron and Hermione. "What happened here?" I asked them.

Hermione shook her head. "No one knows. Dumbledore said that the cat isn't dead; merely petrified. But who did this?"

"Enemies of the heir, beware!" shouted Draco Malfoy's voice across the curious and terrified murmurs of the crowd. "You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

Everyone gasped. I didn't really understand this whole Chamber of Secrets thing, but it the deep depths of my heart, I knew that something terrible was going on, and I was going to figure out what it was—including the creepy voice that could be directly linked with this.

The attack had a large effect on the entire school. Everyone talked about it for the next week. Ginny seemed even more pale and shaken after it, and no words of comfort seemed to make her feel better. It wasn't uncommon for Hermione to be reading, but it seemed that was all she did nowadays. Ron and I shrugged it off, but couldn't pretend we weren't curious.

Ron and I were working in the common room when Hermione plopped beside us, groaning. "What's wrong?" I asked, looking up from my Potions essay.

"Are you a few inches short on your essay, too?" Ron asked, and I snorted with disbelief.

"No!" Hermione said. "I left my copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ at home! I wanted to read up on the Chamber of Secrets…I'm sure it was in there somewhere."

"Really?" Ron and I asked together, distracted.

"Yes," Hermione said, nodding. "Hey, we have History of Magic this morning! I'll ask Professor Binns."

The bell rang twenty minutes later for History of Magic. Hermione and Ron grabbed their bags, but I slapped my forehead. "Mine's upstairs…I'll probably be late, you guys go on ahead."

They agreed, and I ran upstairs to get my bag. By the time I was out of the portrait hole, and running down the corridor, the bell rang. I groaned and slumped against the wall. I seriously considered skipping.

I, however, decided on good judgment, and hurried downstairs to the History of Magic classroom.

On the way downstairs, I bumped into someone unfortunate. Draco Malfoy, of course. We were walking towards each other in a particularly long corridor. It was sufficiently awkward until we actually got close enough to torture one another.

"What are you doing, Potter?" he shot at me as I passed him. We both stopped walking and glared at each other.

"None of your business," I shot back, like the twelve year old I was.

Likewise, Draco narrowed his eyes at me. "Shouldn't you be in class?" he asked, suspiciously.

"Yes," I answered simply. "And shouldn't you?"

"Yes."

We both paused, eyeing one another suspiciously.

"So, what were you saying the other night? Muggle-borns, you'll be next?" I asked him.

"Oh, don't you know anything?" he asked, slapping his forehead.

"I know that you hate Muggle-borns!" I exclaimed.

"Don't you get it, Potter?" he shot back. "The Chamber of Secrets is open. Salazar Slytherin built it back when he was at the school, and only the _heir_ of Slytherin can open it. And apparently…the heir is back, just like it was fifty years ago. There's even supposed to be some type of monster!"

My mind hurriedly remembered the strange voices I've been hearing. I shook these suspicious thoughts away.

"The heir…why, you don't say, Draco! It was—it _is_ you! You're the one that did it!" I exclaimed wildly.

"No, it wasn't," Draco said quietly. "I have no idea who did it, but it was not me."

"Who else hates Muggle-borns as much as you? And I don't think you have a very good background, you know."

Before I knew it, I was pinned against the wall and Draco Malfoy's face was extremely close to mine. "Don't ever talk about me like that," he hissed. "I didn't open the Chamber, and I don't know who did."

"But you know an awful lot about it," I argued, my bravery unflagging as I was pinned against a wall.

Draco let me go and turned away. "That means nothing," he argued back.

"I'm going to go before we kill each other," I said, rather cheerfully, skipping away, giving an awkward wave over my shoulder.

"Not so fast!" Lockhart said, blocking my way, appearing out of nowhere in front of me. "You, too, Malfoy! What are you two doing out of class?"

"I forgot my bag, and I ran to go get it," I told him honestly. "I'm supposed to be in History of Magic."

"And you, Malfoy?" Lockhart asked, with an air of authority. He was clearing enjoying this.

"I'm supposed to be in…Herbology," he muttered.

"Then, I suggest you run along, and oh, Haley, you're already late, why don't you come to my office? I have something to show you."

I didn't like the sound of that at all, and catching Malfoy's daunting glare, I soundly refused. "I really have to get to class," I insisted.

"I'll walk her," Malfoy offered, completely unexpectedly.

"I'm sure I can find the classroom quite surely, thanks," I dismissed, readjusting my bag on my shoulders.

"No, that's a good idea," Lockhart agreed heartily. "Can't have you walking alone with all these mishaps happening about the castle. Now, run along you two. A little house-to-house bonding never killed anyone. I remember back in my day…"

Malfoy and I had already started walking away.

"What the heck?" I hissed at him, once we were down the corridor.

"Just feel like…taking a walk," Malfoy said, grinning.

"Well, you can leave," I barked. "We hate each other, remember?"

"Who said anything about hate? You're Haile Potter and I'm Draco Malfoy. We're sworn enemies. Does there have to be dislike, too?" he said, quite airily.

"Let's see, you just shoved me against a wall, called my friend a terrible name, caused my other friend to belch slugs for an hour, and have pretty much tortured me since my first day at Hogwarts. Yeah, there's a _tad_ bit of dislike here."

Draco laughed. It wasn't a snicker or a smirk or anything. He looked at me, amused. "You've got a point. Fine, hate it is. Good-bye, Potter." And he walked away.

I rolled my eyes and shook my fist at his haughty figure, and then entered the classroom.

Hermione and Ron gave me questioning looks.

"Oh, I was late, and then Lockhart caught us," I said irked, and told them about my encounter with Malfoy, while Professor Binns droned on and on.

"He does seem like one to be the Heir," Ron agreed, and Hermione cocked her head.

"I wonder…" she thought out loud. "And Haile, Malfoy told you exactly what Binns told us about the Chamber of Secrets. But I think there's more to the story than we don't realize."

In the next week, I began to feel a bit worried. People that I had once been on quite friendly terms with started to turn away from me. Some even _ran_ away from me. I was stunned, until little Colin Creevey told me one day that he overheard someone saying I was the heir.

"I don't believe it, Haile!" he piped up. "I don't believe it for a second!"

I muttered thanks, and found Hermione and Ron in the common room. "That's it," I said, slamming my bag down by their table.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked me.

I told her what Colin said, and how people have been acting. "I've noticed," Ron agreed. "And that's ridiculous. _You_? The heir?"

"I know, but I mean…there's no proof," I said, thinking hard. "Listen, the only way to fix this is to"—

"Find out who is!" Hermione finished, clapping her hands, putting down the book she had been reading. "Oh, I just love mysteries. I used to read this Muggle series, Nancy Drew, and finding out the culprit was always the climax of the story. I—"

Ron was staring at her, blankly, but I shrugged. "Whatever gets you motivated, I guess. So, you'll help me?"

"We're with you, mate!" Ron said, happily.

"First, we should start at the scene of the crime," Hermione said. "Let's take the Invisibility Cloak. If people see you lurking about, they might get even more suspicious."

I ran upstairs, grabbed it, and raced back downstairs. We climbed out the portrait hole, and threw on the silvery Cloak. We raced through the hallways, undetected, and finally reached where the walls read, 'The Chamber of Secrets has been Opened.'

"What next?" Ron asked Hermione, clearly intrigued by this mystery-solving business. I was beginning to feel a bit excited myself.

"We investigate, of course," Hermione said, grinning.

"I see scorch marks," Ron said, disinterestedly.

"Would you look at this?" Hermione said, pulling us over to a nearby crack in the wall. Numerous tiny spiders were scurrying to get through the minuscule crack. "That's strange."

"AH!" Ron yelled. We backed up instinctively, and Hermione and I turned towards him, bewildered.

"What?!" I exclaimed, clutching my heart.

"I…uh, don't care for spiders, much," Ron said, shamefully. "Had a bad experience when I was younger, and I—it's not funny!" Hermione ceased her giggling.

"Come on, let's go in here," I quickly suggested, leading them towards the girls' bathroom. "Maybe we can find out where all this water came from…"

A very pale, young female ghost was waiting for us when we walked in. "Oh, hello, Myrtle," Hermione said, cheerfully, removing herself from the cloak.

Ron and I took it off, too, intrigued by this sudden stranger.

"What's a boy doing in here?" Myrtle asked, gloomily. She was a very gloomy ghost, and the bathroom in which she inhabited was no different. No one probably even used this bathroom.

"Just looking around," I told her, smiling. "Nice to meet you, I'm Haile Potter."

"Yes, I know about you," she droned, looking straight at me.

"So, have you seen anything suspicious lately?" Ron asked, stroking his chin. He was obviously trying to be a detective.

"You mean, that cat outside the wall? No, I didn't. I get depressed very often, and that particular night, I tried to _kill_ myself."

Ron and I snorted. "But you're dead!" Ron sneered, cracking up.

Myrtle took one look at Ron's giggles and burst into tears, flushing herself down a toilet. "What a miserable little brat," I said, pitifully.

"They call her 'Moaning Myrtle,'" Hermione added. "Appropriate, of course."

"Well, let's get back to the common room," Ron said, rubbing his tummy. "We'll need to put the Cloak away before dinner time."

As we exited the bathroom, Hermione rolled her eyes. "Is that all you think about? Food?" she complained.

Before swinging the Cloak around all three of us, I took a last glance at a humungous, circular chain of sinks in the middle of the room.

After dinner, us three sat in the common room, discussing it quietly, while people around us talking loudly and joked around.

"I have an idea," I said, suddenly. "I think I have a pretty good guess who the heir is."

"Malfoy," Ron answered, and I nodded encouragingly.

"Yes, maybe," Hermione said, thoughtfully. "I mean, it could be possible, but we'd need to prove it."

"And how are we to do that?" Ron asked skeptically. "I'm sure he'd come right out and tell us if we'd ask." He rolled his eyes, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"We _will_ ask him. But… _we_ won't be the ones asking," Hermione said, smiling a rather mischievous smile. "We'll be breaking the rules, of course, lots of them…but it's **for a good reason** , so I say, why not?"

"Why not?" Ron echoed. "But uh, seriously, Hermione, what are you talking about it?"

"Polyjuice Potion," she said promptly.

"Oh, I could've sworn Snape said something about that a couple weeks ago," I said, knocking my head with my fist.

"I sleep during Potions," Ron said, unabashedly.

"Well, I pay attention," Hermione began, impatiently, "and I know that it will transform us into someone else for an hour. We can transform into three Slytherins and we'll be able to get Malfoy to tell us anything!"

"Brilliant, Hermione!" I exclaimed.

"So, how do we make this potion thing?" Ron asked, excitedly.

"The book that it's in…well, there's a problem already. It's in the Restricted Section of the library. We'll need a teacher's permission slip to use it."

"Who'd be dumb enough to sign us _that_?" Ron asked. Then, his face lit up and he turned to me. "Ask Lockhart."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, and gave a sound of protest. "He's not stupid!" We both glared at her. "B-but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try," she squeaked. Our glares transformed into warm smiles.

The very next day, I had definitely had had enough. People were now not even bothering to be surreptitious, but muttered loudly as I walked by, and every group were saying the same thing: that _I_ was the heir. I began to grow extremely angry.

That afternoon, I asked Lockhart. Without even glancing at the book title, he signed his loopy signature and winked at me.

I thanked him generously, throwing him huge smiles, to which he commented, "Oh, and Haile, your smile is looking _much_ more attractive these days. Don't worry; the looks will come, too, as you grow older. I'd like to say I was in your awkward adolescent stage once, but I was always a handsome boy…well, don't worry at any rate."

I stood rooted to the spot, then, wrinkling my straight, little nose, I walked away. Malfoy was laughing outside the door, making me a jump as I walked out of the room.

"The looks will come as you grow older," Malfoy mocked, as I swept past him, my face red. "Don't worry, Potter, you won't be an ugly little toad forever!" he yelled after me.

I was so furious I didn't even see where I walking. I walked straight into a tall, thin someone. I dropped down to gather the books and the slip of paper I dropped, sighing angrily.

"I'm sorry," came a smooth, sympathetic voice, as he dropped down to help me. I looked up and it was Cedric Diggory. I had met him on my first day at Hogwarts on the train, and I had bumped into him the same way.

"Oh, no, I am," I quickly countered, standing up, checking to make sure I had picked up the signed piece of paper.

"I can't wait for Quidditch season to officially start, can you?" he offered, conversationally.

"Oh, practice has been a nightmare." The words slipped out before I could think. It wasn't a good idea telling the other team had practice was going. "It's just…not that our team has been sucking, it's just…people haven't exactly been encouraging. They think…you know, I'm the heir person."

His eyes turned dark, but his face remained incredibly handsome. "I've heard the rumors, too," he said, lowly. His face brightened up a bit. "I don't believe it, Haile. You, of all people, the heir…ridiculous."

My heart soared at this, and tucked my hair behind my ear, happily. "Thanks, Cedric. Well, I've got to be going. See you on the Quidditch field soon!"

"Yeah, Gryffindor versus Slytherin tomorrow," he reminded me.

I smacked my forehead. "DUH! I can't believe I forgot!" I exclaimed in realization. "Oh, no. I also forgot how nervous I get before matches." My stomach twisted uneasily.

"Don't worry; you're a great player, and I'm not just saying that," he said, smiling an irresistible half-smile.

My knees felt weak. "Thanks," I said shakily. "I'll see you at the game tomorrow?"

"Yeah…see ya," he said airily, and we walked our separate ways.

I felt a bit more bouncy on my way up to the common room to give the slip of paper to Hermione, so she could check out the book.

All three of us rushed down to the library, successfully checked out the book, 'Moste Potente Potions' and rushed to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom to check out what we needed and to makes plans.

We decided on Myrtle's bathroom because nobody used it, and it was near the scene of the crime. Myrtle abruptly stopped sobbing when we walked in. "Mind if we join you?" Hermione asked, breathlessly. Ron and I held our breath.

"No," Myrtle said, miserably. "I was just having a good cry. It's so terrible being dead."

"Yes, but you seem to be so…um," I started, and not quite sure how to finish. "You seem so _good-hearted_."

Hermione and Ron shot me furtive, weird looks, but Myrtle looked positively delighted. "Stay as long as you like," she said as pleasantly as a miserable, dead girl could, and locked herself into a stall, giving us privacy.

We mulled over all the nasty, hard-to-obtain ingredients we had to gather before we could even start, and the actual potion would take a little less than a month to make. Ron started to protest, but under Hermione's hard glare, he faltered.

"We can do this," I encouraged, and Hermione nodded.

"It's going to be difficult, but it's the only plan we've got," Hermione said, her cheeks bright. "This is kind of exciting, isn't it? Plus, this is an amazing learning experience. If we can pull this off, the potions we're going to make in Snape's class are going to look childish!"

Ron and I shrugged our shoulders, indifferently.

When we arrived back at the common room with a renewed sense of determination and hope, I suddenly remembered for the second time today that I had a Quidditch match tomorrow. I wondered why Malfoy hadn't brought it up while I had seen him.

I went to bed that night feeling a little sick with anxiety, but I somehow managed to fall asleep.

How I was able to fall and _stay_ asleep was a miracle, but I didn't wake up once during the night. I also slept right through the early hours of the morning and into breakfast. Finally, I felt someone shaking me hard. "Haile!" came a familiar voice I immediately recognized as Hermione's.

"What?" I asked, blankly, sitting up.

"Quidditch match! In ten minutes!" she said hurriedly, throwing me my Quidditch robes. Adrenaline began to pump through my veins, and I had my robes on, my teeth brushed, my hair pulled up, and was out of the common room in 5 minutes.

I rushed down to the field, making it on the brink of lateness. Oliver Wood glared at me as I arrived. "You. Are. Late!" he barked furiously.

"I'm sorry!" I cried, smoothing back my hair. "I overslept!"

"You missed the speech!" Wood said, reproachfully.

"Oh, and epic it was, always," Fred said, rolling his eyes.

"Look, we need this win, H," Wood said, staring into my eyes. "Do your best. Win, okay?" His hands grasped my shoulders and I felt like shrinking away from the intensity his eyes burned into mine.

I gulped. "No problem-o," I murmured, and he let go, his face cold and determined, walking into the bright sunlight, looking like a leader.

The rest of team followed him, with a mixture of nervousness, anxiety, excitement, and determination. Me? I felt pressured, I suppose, but more excited. My nerves had floated away and the hopefulness of beating Malfoy gave me a new feeling of determination. Feelings are too hard to describe, so let's just get on with the match.

The Slytherin team met us halfway across the field. Wood and Flint shook hands—rather, death-gripped hands—seriously, if looks could kill.

Malfoy pushed forward, his brand new, top-of-the-line broomstick, identical to the rest of his team's, gleaming in the bright sunlight. "So, Scarhead, ready to play?" he said, maliciously.

"Scarhead?" I repeated, my mind working slowly. Maybe it was the sun.

For some reason, whenever Malfoy showed up, my mind seemed to either one) shut down entirely like today, or two) function like a calculator: fast and accurate. And my heart always inexplicably spluttered hyperactively. I concluded it was the fury I felt when I saw him. It just wasn't the same feeling I got when I saw Cedric; I had convinced myself of that much.

Then, before I could gather my thoughts again, Madam Hooch blew the whistle to begin to game. My Quidditch side took over, and I instinctively kicked off the ground.

I flew higher than anyone else in the stadium, searching my the Snitch. I spotted some nasty looking storm clouds in the distance, and I hope the game would be over before they arrived. Malfoy appeared at my side. "Oh, 'ello," he said, rather amiably. "I can't _wait_ to see your face when you lose."

"Shut up, Malfoy, I'm actually trying to fly here," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes, while still looking all over the field for the Snitch.

"Is that what you call flying?" Malfoy asked, apparently trying to be innocent.

Flint flew by Malfoy, and shouted, "OI! MALFOY! Stop flirting and find the bloody Snitch!"

Malfoy's face tinted pink, and he was gone in a flash. Instead, a Bludger, coming at me at full speed, quickly filled the absence he left behind.

I tried to duck, but I knew it was going to be too late.

However, George got there in the nick of time, and hit it towards a Chaser on the opposing team. "Thanks, George," I breathed, my heart rate slowly down. However, I wasn't calm for long.

As George started to fly away, the same Bludger reversed its course, and came soaring back to me. I screamed this time, but George was back again, swiftly hitting it away. "Huh," he commented, confused.

I flew to the other side of the field, George, and now Fred, on my trail. The Bludger continued to follow me. They stayed by my side for the next ten minutes or so, making sure the Bludger didn't hit me. Their distraction was hurting the team, or maybe it was just bad luck.

Slytherin was winning sixty points to zero when Wood called a time-out. "What's going on?!" he roared at us. The perfectly clear day had actually shifted to a rainy, stormy mess. The rain began to beat down.

"Look, this Bludger won't leave Haile alone," George put in. "It's unusual for Bludgers to stick to one person."

"It's been tampered with!" Fred added angrily. "There is no other explanation!"

"We have to continue playing!" Wood said, indifferent to our current problem. We all sighed. We all knew when Wood got into his 'Quidditch game mode' he would never see reason—except in winning.

I shrugged. "I'll just have to deal with it," I told them. "Fred, George, concentrate on the rest of the team. They need you, too. I'll deal with this—rogue—Bludger on my own."

"Oh, don't be like that," Angelina said, in a maternal way, putting her hand on my shoulder. "You'll be killed!"

"Seriously, Haile, we can call off the match," Katie added, her eyes wide.

"No!" Wood and I said together. I glanced at him, and continued. "We're going to finish the game. I'm going to go out there, grab the Snitch as fast as I can, and end the game before the Bludger kills me. Okay?"

The team shrugged and nodded, and Wood looked positively happy. "Excellent, Haile, now let's carry on."

Dealing with the Bludger on my own was probably the most stupid decision I could make. However, it was my only option. The Bludger seriously did not leave me alone. I had fly, duck, dip, twirl, and all these weird other moves to dodge it.

People were laughing at me, I realized after a while, but I really could give a owl's butt about that right now. Malfoy came nearer to me to laugh. "Very graceful, Potter," he barked, hysterically. Then, I caught sight of the Snitch.

It was dangling by Malfoy's left ear.

I made a dive for Malfoy, who was a few feet below me. Malfoy looked startled; I don't know what he was thought I was doing, but adrenaline was taking over my body.

All I knew in that moment was that I wanted that slippery, slimy, hard, cold metal ball clenched in my fist, unable to escape.

And a few seconds later, it was. Malfoy had dived out of the way, not even bothering to check what I was aiming for, giving me free range to the Snitch.

However, once my hand held the Snitch, and my feet were planted on the ground, I forgot momentarily about the rogue Bludger.

My team was cheering, rushing towards me—the crowd went wild—the Slytherins booing and the team yelling angrily—and that's when it happened.


	6. Chapter 6: Scared, Potter?

The Bludger came full speed ahead and ran straight into my stomach. "OUCH!" I cried, falling to the ground, the Snitch still beating frantically in my right hand. My left hand flew to my ribs, where it felt like my insides had been twisted terribly.

Gasps came from the crowd in the stands, and soon, the entire team and Gryffindor house, not to mention countless Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, surrounded me on the wet, muddy floor as I cried out in agony.

"Out of my way, quickly!" came a bright voice from the crowd. I groaned out loud—and it had nothing to do with the aching pain that came from my broken ribs.

"Haley, let me fix this for you," Lockhart said, crouching down beside me.

I struggled to remain conscious. "IT'S HAILE! And no!" I said, firmly. "Help. Please." Everyone in the crowd looking on, confused.

Hermione pushed her way to the front. "Um, Professor, perhaps I should just take her to the hospital wing?"

"Oh, how unnecessary," Lockhart said, airily. "I'll fix this right here!"

I was screaming before he even performed the spell. Then, the pain was gone. For a second, I actually cracked a smile. The crowd held their breath.

The teachers were now approaching hurriedly over, and even some Slytherins had curiously joined the large group.

I felt my stomach. Nothing. No ribs. I pulled up my shirt, and saw flat, pallid skin that had nothing support it underneath it anymore. I stared in horror.

"Ron? Hermione?" I said, somehow remembering them in my state of shock.

"Yes?" they asked together. They were at my sides at once, pulling me up.

"Take me…to the hospital wing," I choked out, feeling strangely empty and…floppy.

The crowd was also staring in horror. With Ron and Hermione's help, I staggered across the field. Snape stopped us. "Actually, Ron, Hermione, I'm sure Miss Potter can manage on her own," Snape said, evilly. "Why don't you let her go? _Now._ I need you two for just a moment." He smirked, as I nodded to them.

They let go of me tentatively, looking terrified, and I tried to stand by myself. I began to fall a bit, but a strong arm wrapped my waist, keeping me upright.

I turned my head, and saw Cedric Diggory's face. This was _way_ too good to be true. I was obviously dreaming. So, I let myself fall into that state of unconsciousness.

I awoke to Madam Pomfrey's enraged voice. "Oh, I ought to go down there and tell that man _not to mess with injured students_!"

I opened my eyes. Ron and Hermione were at my bedside, and they were looking at me with terrified eyes. "Hi," I murmured, closing my eyes again.

"You will be able to fix her, right?" Ron said, nervously. "I mean, her ribs…they're not even broken—I mean, they're not even _there_."

"I know exactly what went wrong in his pathetic spell," Madam Pomfrey snapped at no one in particular. "He didn't mend them—he made them disappear! Mending bones takes a second, but growing them back is a painful process that will take all night long."

I opened my eyes again. "All night long?" I asked, weakly. I inwardly cursed Lockhart. What a stupid bloke.

Madam Pomfrey had to literally _force_ me to swallow the _Skele-Gro_. It tasted bitter, and burned my throat. She left after I was done, still shaking her head with anger, and Ron handed me some water.

"I don't believe it about that Bludger!" Ron said for the fifth time. "I've never heard of anything like it!"

Hermione nodded. "I wonder how Malfoy did it."

"Do you… _know for sure_ it was Malfoy?" I asked quietly. My stomach was still feeling numb; the pain hadn't arrived yet.

"Well, who else would do it to you?" Ron asked blankly. "Of course it was Malfoy!"

I nodded. "You're right." I felt extremely angry then. I hadn't felt this fury before, but it creeping up now, like the pain in my stomach. I didn't know who to be more furious at: Malfoy or Lockhart. I concluded that my anger should be focused on Malfoy, whose fault it was in the first place. "That evil, little, slimy git. When I get my hands on him…"

"HAILE!" My name was shouted by about seven or eight voices. The rest of the Quidditch team came stomping in, still in their wet uniforms.

They crowded my bed, talking loudly and excitedly about my big win, and my big finish. Then, I remembered suddenly that Snape had taken Hermione and Ron away from me. "Hermione—Ron!" I said, suddenly. "Why did Snape make you let go?

"That evil bloke!" Ron muttered. "He just wanted to see you fall, the little git! He made Hermione and I run up to Madam Pomfrey to _warn_ her you were coming. As if she need a _warning_."

"So, you two _didn't_ carry me up here?'" I asked, afraid to hear the answer. "I think I fainted."

"You did faint," Hermione said, remembering. "But it wasn't us."

"That Diggory bloke caught you just as you fell," Alicia Spinnet said, giggling. Katie and Angelina joined her.

"He's so handsome," Katie said.

"Cedric Diggory carried me to the hospital wing," I repeated, feeling my heart leave my body and soar up in the sky, floating amongst the clouds. I almost forgot the sharp pains in my abdominal areas that were now extremely uncomfortable.

"Mmmhmm," Alicia said, smiling at me. "Aren't _you_ lucky?"

"Oh, she's brimming with luck," George said, nodding.

Fred agreed, "It was sure good luck that Bludger took a liking to you, eh, Haile?"

"Luck, indeed," Wood put in. "That catch was absolutely _amazing_."

"After the match, Flint was chewing Malfoy's ear off. Something about flirting and not noticing the Snitch when it was right next to him. Freaking hilarious, dude," Fred said, laughing.

Finally, Madam Pomfrey had enough, and made everyone reluctantly leave. I was then left alone for the night, tired but unable to ignore the really hurtful, alarming pains that came from my newly growing ribs.

 _That Malfoy. Next time I see him I swear…and Lockhart…oh, that faking, lying moron! My teeth are fine. They are! Why, I'll…_ I drifted off into sleep.

I dreamed I had was flying on a broom, hurdling towards ground and I didn't—couldn't—stop. I heard a loud CRACK! just as I hit the ground.

I woke up screaming, gasping for air. It wasn't a frightening dream at all—hardly even a nightmare. So, I don't know why I screamed. The sound I heard as I hit the ground, however, made me simply startled.

Madam Pomfrey came bursting out of her room, her hair in curlers, slippers and a bathrobe on, and her eyes wide, but tired. "What is it, dear?" she asked, as startled as me.

"Oh, um, nightmare," I whispered, and then I felt the pains that were erupting from my stomach. I felt like someone was sticking numerous amounts of sharp needles into me.

"The pain probably woke you," she cooed, sympathetically. "Go back to bed—you only have a few hours left." She briskly walked back to her room, and shut the door.

I inhaled and exhaled a few times, pretending not to feel the overwhelming pain, and closed my eyes, prepared for sleep. Instead, I felt soft breathing on my face, and opened my eyes again to huge, green golf balls for eyes, and a pillowcase for a body.

Before I could scream, the little creature sitting on top of me covered my mouth. "Haile Potter," it said, and I smacked my forehead in realization.

"Dobby!" I gasped. "What—what are you— _what are you doing here?_ "

"Haile Potter, ma'am, Dobby didn't expect you to be pleased to see him, of course. Dobby is certainly not pleased to see you. Dobby means," he recovered quickly, "it is always a pleasure to see you, yes, but here, no, you should not have returned to Hogwarts!"

"I told you Dobby, Hogwarts is my home!" I told him firmly.

"Dobby thought…after Haile Potter missed the train and was attacked by the Bludger…you would return home, but nothing works!" he said, tearfully.

Dawning realization poured over me, and I felt anger creep up again. I fought to keep my voice calm. "Dobby. It was _you_ who sealed the barrier! It was _you_ who cursed the Bludger!"

"Yes, Haile Potter," Dobby said, nodding.

I deliberated for a moment. " _WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?"_ I furiously choked out.

Dobby defended himself quietly. "Of Haile Potter's safety, only of her safety," he said quietly.

My heart melted a little. "I'm…I'm sorry for getting mad, Dobby. All I want is for you to understand _why_ I want to be at Hogwarts. My friends are here…Quidditch…it's surreal…I _love_ it here," I told him, smiling, despite the pain I felt.

Dobby cracked a crinkly-eyed grin himself. "Dobby wishes he could feel such a love for a home," he said, dreamily, and then turned to me, horror-struck. "Dobby doesn't mean! Dobby means to say—"

"Dobby!" I said reproachfully. "Listen," I continued warmly, "would you like to stay here for a while and keep me company? We could talk."

Dobby nodded, his eyes welling up with tears. "Anything you should like, good, sweet Haile."

I chuckled. "Well, _I'd_ like _you_ to talk to me. About being a house-elf. For one thing, why do you wear that pillowcase? Tell me about your life at home."

Dobby opened his mouth, and then rambled on about how the pillowcase represents enslavement and if given a piece of clothing, freedom ensues. He then told me about five a day threats, and each punishment he gives himself on a weekly basis.

Then, when he was finished, I asked, "One more question. Why…exactly didn't you want me to return to Hogwarts?"

Dobby hesitated and said quietly, "Haile Potter, like Dobby said before, terrible things are about to occur here at Hogwarts. History is going to repeat itself, and Haile Potter must not be here as it happens. Now the Chamber of Secrets has opened for the second time…"

"What?!" I gasped, excitedly. "Dobby, again? So, it exists?!"

Dobby gazed at me, horrorstruck, and shook his head. "We'll speak again, Haile Potter, but Dobby must now go. Dobby has said too much!" And with a crack, he was gone.

A few seconds later, the door to the hospital wing opened. I pretended to be asleep, while really peeking.

Dumbledore walked in. My heart started to beat quicker. Professor McGonagall followed him, carrying a small figure, who appeared to be frozen, like a statue.

"What is it?" came Madam Pomfrey's voice, crossing the room briskly.

"An attack," Dumbledore said, quietly but always with the voice of authority. "I believe he was sneaking up here to visit Ms. Potter."

My stomach dropped ten feet. I stole a glance, and saw the body in which they had lain on the bed. It was Colin Creevey, he was holding a camera, his eyes open, but not moving.

"Is he…petrified?" Madam Pomfrey asked, horrified as me.

"Yes," Professor McGonagall said quietly. "Albus…what does it mean?"

"The Chamber of Secrets is open again," he said simply, but solemnly.

"Who?" Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall said together.

Dumbledore shook his head, staring into the two women's eyes. "Who did it is not important. How…how they did it, now that is the question."

I fell back asleep uneasily after that. Poor Colin Creevey. But…who did this to him? Or…what did this to him? The Chamber of Secrets existed, then. Dumbledore said it himself. And it was open _again_. Like it had been fifty years ago according to Malfoy. And the heir to Slytherin was the one to open it.

Now, who was it? And like Dumbledore had wisely said, how were they doing it?

In the morning, I felt my stomach. My ribs were there again. I sighed with relief, and then remembered last night. I looked around for Colin, but the curtains were drawn around his bed. Madam Pomfrey told me I was free to go, and I danced out of the common room.

I searched for Ron and Hermione, wondering why they didn't come meet me in the first place. They weren't in the common room, the Great Hall, or the library so my last conclusion was Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

On the way there, I passed Cedric in the hall. _Of course._ At least I didn't bump into him this time. He did keep showing up, didn't he? I didn't mind in the slightest.

"Oh, all better?" he said cheerfully, stopping.

"Yeah," I said, smiling. "And, um, thanks. You carried me up there, right?"

He grinned sheepishly back. "Well, everyone was crowded around you when your two friends left, and I just got there first…yeah, I did."

"Well, thanks again," I said brightly. "I'll see ya around."

"Great game," he commented, as he walked away. I smiled to myself before continuing on.

Ron and Hermione were in the bathroom, getting started on the Polyjuice Potion. "Can you believe about Colin Creevey?" Hermione asked me, stirring the newly bubbling potion.

"I know!" I told them. "And listen…" I told them about my visit with Dobby.

Ron's face lit up. "I knew it! It _is_ Malfoy. Malfoy's dad did it when he was at school, and he's told Malfoy how to now. Malfoy was angry after the game—really, his temper was out of control—I bet he attacked Colin."

"Isn't there a monster to do that sort of stuff though?" I wondered.

"That's the rumor," Hermione agreed. "But what sort of monster could it be?"

We pondered that for a minute before leaving to go to class.

The whole school soon learned about Colin Creevey soon enough. Ginny Weasley seemed particularly upset, and when I tried to comfort her, she said the same thing all the time. "There's nothing you can do."

Everyone in Hogwarts started to be on the lookout, especially those that were Muggle-born and even Neville, who was a pureblood, but a poor wizard.

As the holidays came nearer, McGonagall collected names of those students that would be staying. Ron, Hermione, and I obviously put our names down, and when we heard Malfoy was staying, we decided it would be the perfect time to use the potion.

However, we still needed to steal some ingredients from Snape's office. So, one day during Potions, Ron and I distracted Snape by secretly putting a few drops of a very strong liquid in Crabbe's potion in front of us, to which he furiously had to help clean up, because some people were splashed by the explosion

Once Snape was finished giving antidotes to the people who had been injured by the exploding potion, Hermione was already back in her seat, the stolen ingredients in her bag, her cheeks flushed.

That night, at dinner, everyone was talking animatedly about the new Dueling Club that was to occur that evening at eight o'clock. "That sounds fun!" I said. Hermione and Ron shared my excitement and we all decided to attend.

When Hermione, Ron, and I arrived that night, there was already a crowd gathered around a large stage replaced by the big staff table at the back of the Great Hall.

Lockhart ambled onto the stage followed by Professor Snape. I groaned. My two _favorite_ staff members. "Hello!" Lockhart said, dazzling the crowd with his immense smile. "Good evening! Glad to see you all have shown up to learn how to defend yourselves in the face of danger. Professor Snape has agreed to assist me here, and don't worry, he'll be fine, even after I'm done with him."

Snape and Lockhart faced each other, Snape's face glared daggers at Lockhart. Again, if looks could kill…. They bowed slightly to each other, and put their wands out in front of them. "This, children, is the accepted combat position. Now, when we count to three, we'll perform our spells."

"One, two, three!"

Snape yelled, "Expelliarmus!" Bright red light erupted from Snape's wand and Lockhart's wand flew out of his hand, and he was knocked backwards.

Hermione whispered to us, "The Disarming Charm."

"Thank you, Professor Snape," Lockhart said, climbing to his feet, snatching his wand up from the floor, and brushing invisible dust off his robes. "Fairly predictable, of course, but a good lesson for the kids to see."

Snape's lip curled.

"Okay, now we're going to put you into pairs and see how you do!" Lockhart said excitedly. "Snape, please help."

"Ron with Seamus," Lockhart said, and I moved closer to Hermione. Snape stopped by me.

"Absolutely not," Snape said, chuckling darkly. "Miss Granger with Miss Bulstrode— _now._ " Hermione moved reluctantly towards a startling ugly, large girl who looked like she was going to pummel Hermione to a pulp.

"Miss Potter…how about you try Mr. Malfoy for size?" Snape said, his lips curling upward into a malicious smile.

I started to object, but Malfoy was in front of me in a flash. " **Scared, Potter**?" he said, raising his eyebrows mockingly.

"No," I shot back. "Why should I be?"

"Maybe because I'm going to curse your stupid scar-face?"

"Or maybe I'll take that big head of yours and shove it up your—"

"Friendly competition never hurt anyone!" Lockhart said, because Snape had started to move towards me, looking murderous.

I shrugged it off irritably and faced Malfoy, as Snape and Lockhart wandered away. Lockhart went back on the stage. "When I count to three! Disarm spells ONLY, please! One, two…"

Malfoy cheated. He started on three, but before he could perform the entire spell, I shouted, "Rictusempra!" which was a Tickling Charm. He double over in laughter, crying in hysterics, and I laughed with him, or rather, at him.

Lockhart yelled, "DISARM ONLY, HALEY, DRACO!"

Draco, however, disregarded this, and still giggling, shot a spell at me that made my legs dance uncontrollably. Snape appeared at my side, and said, "Finite incantatem!" Malfoy stopped laughing and I ceased the dancing.

I looked around for Hermione and Ron. Ron and Seamus looked unharmed, but Millicent Bulstrode had Hermione in a headlock, their wands lay forgotten. "Hermione!" I cried, and Ron hearing me, leapt forward and helped me rescue Hermione.

"Get off her, you stupid cow!" I shrieked, when Millicent forced to keep a hold on her. Millicent growled threateningly, but I just hopped back to a jaw-dropped Malfoy.

"Potter, Malfoy!" Lockhart said loudly. "Everyone watch. I'll use them as my volunteers to show you how to block spells."

Lockhart was unable to show everyone the proper way to block, so when Snape said in a clear voice, "Ready, kids? Haile, block Draco's spell. One—"

"Hey! He hasn't shown me how!" I tried to interrupt, but Snape had continued counting.

"Three!"

Draco yelled, "Serpensortia!" A huge, black snake appeared out of Draco's wand, and slithered across the stage.

Snape was smirking. "Stand back, I'll get rid of it," he said easily, clearing enjoying the horrified look my face.

Suddenly, the snake had reached Justin Finch-Fletchley. He bared its fangs, ready to strike. I screamed, "NO, LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

The snake immediately fell back. I was shocked. For one thing, I had yelled on instinct, and second, I had not expected the snake to listen to me.

I glanced at Justin, sighing with relief, and Snape got rid of the snake. However, Justin was looking at me, angry and terrified. "What do you think you're playing at?" he snapped, and stormed out of the hall, quite a few people following him.

My heart sank horrible as I looked around and saw horrified, confused, and curious glances all aimed at me. Even Snape was looking at me with a curious expression. Malfoy looked shocked. I opened my mouth to defend myself, but no words came.

Ron and Hermione were soon at my side, escorting me out of the hall. "HAILE!" Ron bellowed, then quieted his voice as people started exiting the Great Hall. "You're a Parselmouth?"

"No? What's that?" I asked, still horribly puzzled.

"Someone who can talk to snakes," Hermione breathed, looking startled and a little frightened.

"Oh, well, I've talked to one before. It was before I knew I was a witch. I didn't know…is it…unusual?"

"Even in the wizarding world," Ron said, nodding vigorously. "You see…Salazar Slytherin could talk to snakes. You know, lion for Gryffindor, snake for Slytherin?"

My mouth dropped. "B-but, why is everyone mad at me?" I asked, my voice raising an octave. "I told the snake to leave Justin alone!"

"Oh, is that what you said?" Hermione said, relieved.

"What? Yes, didn't you hear me?" I asked, impatient. What did everyone _think_ I said?!

"We couldn't understand you," Ron said, eyeing me strangely. "It sounded like hissing to us—that's all."

"B-but…I didn't even realize…I didn't know…" I was almost on the verge of tears. "Why do you guys look like someone just died?"

"Everyone's going to think you're somehow related to Salazar Slytherin," Hermione said, practically. "And well, this doesn't help your case of being the heir, does it?"

I shook my head, frowning deeply, and Hermione and Ron escorted me back up to the common room. I sniffed the whole way.

The next morning, we did not have Herbology class due to a terrible blizzard outside. My stomach still uneasy and conscience unsettled, I set off to find Justin with Hermione. Ron stayed behind to work on homework on our free period.

We found a group of Hufflepuffs seated in the library. I walked right up to a boy named Ernie, and a girl next to him named Hannah. "Where's Justin?" I asked, sounding braver than I felt.

The rest of the Hufflepuffs looked away. Ernie looked at me, the color draining from his face "Upstairs, hiding from _you_ , I presume," he said to me, rather coldly.

My insides churned. "Why? Listen, last night, all I told that snake was to leave him alone! I didn't even know I was a—a Parselmouth, okay?"

"Just a little weird, alright?" Ernie said, eyeing me suspiciously. "You got in trouble with Filch, right? His cat turns up petrified. And Colin Creevey is always annoying you with his camera—he turns up petrified. You-Know-Who tries to kill you when you were just baby—perhaps he didn't want any competition for the greatest Dark Lord of all-time?" He said this all very fast, and stopped, breathing hard, the rest of the Hufflepuffs now eyeing me curiously.

My cheeks flushed, and my eyes welled up with tears. I stalked away with Hermione, and I muttered, "I'm going to go check on the potion, you go on up." Hermione left me, looking worried.

I ambled down the corridor, running straight into Hagrid. "Oh, hello," I said, looking at the ground.

"Haile…how are yeh?" he asked me, gruffly.

"Not so good," I said, sadly. "All this bad attention lately. It's getting to me."

"Aw, Haile, we both know yer not any part of this mess. People will let it go soon," Hagrid said, and then walked away briskly, as if in a hurry. I sighed, and continued walking.

I climbed up a long staircase into a dark corridor. Up ahead, I saw two strange things. One was a body, frigid and frozen, on the ground, and a ghost, floating completely still. I ran to get a closer look, curiosity taking over my impulse to run away.

It was Justin Finch-Fletchley. I gasped in horror. Oh, if anyone saw me at the scene of the crime, it was over. My reputation was _ruined_. But, I couldn't just leave him here. I glanced at the ghost. It was Nearly-Headless-Nick! He was just floating there, staring the floor. Apparently, both had been petrified, like Colin.

Then, of course, just my luck, Peeves burst out of a classroom. "POTTY WEE POTTER, WHAT DO WE HAVE HERE?!" He looked over the scene once and cried, "ATTACK! ATTACK! ATTACK!" He yelled and yelled and yelled and I backed against a wall, terrified.

Professor McGonagall was the first teacher to arrive, followed by tons of students, including Ernie Macmillan. "YOU SEE!" Ernie yelled, pointing at me. "LOOK! JUSTIN! SHE DID IT! LOOK!"

Professor McGonagall, white in the face, said sharply, "That's enough, Macmillan. Go fetch Filch to take Mr. Finch-Fletchley to the hospital wing along with Nick. Potter…you better come with me."

I graciously followed her away from the judging crowd, the malicious smiles, the terrified gasps, the shaking of the solemn heads…

"Professor, I didn't do it, I swear," I said, breathlessly, jogging to keep up with her brisk pace.

"Save it for the headmaster," she said, shortly, and we suddenly arrived at a gargoyle.

"Is this…?"

"Dumbledore's office. Yes," she said. "Lemon drop," she told the gargoyle, and it swung open. She led me up a spiral staircase, and finally to a large, wooden door. She knocked a couple times.

The door swung open, and McGonagall pointed at a chair in front of the desk. "Sit. Wait." She left.

I looked around in awe. Several knick-knacks adorned the walls and his desk, funny little noises came from everywhere in the circular room, and walls were covered in portraits of previous headmasters.

I spotted the Sorting Hat. I ran over to it. It was on a high shelf. I stood on a nearby stool to reach it. I jammed it on my head. It took a few seconds and said in my ear, "Ah yes, Miss Haile Potter."

"Hi…Sorting Hat…I was just wondering…"

"If I put you in the right house. You were very difficult to place. I stand by my word. You _would_ have done well in Slytherin—" I took it off instantly. I put it back on the shelf, fuming.

"No," I told it. It didn't reply.

I heard a soft cooing from behind me. I whipped around. A bird was in a cage, cooing softly. It was very old looking. It looked like it could drop dead any minute. It resembled a very ancient turkey.

Suddenly, the bird erupted into flames. "Not this, too!" I screamed, looking around for water, a fire extinguisher—anything! Then, the bird was nothing more than a pile of ashes.

Dumbledore then entered the room. "Professor! Your bird! It—it just _burst into flame…_ "

Dumbledore smiled. "Excellent; it's about time. You see, Haile," he explained, chuckling at my horrified expression. "Fawkes is a phoenix. They are wonderful pets. Faithful, can carry heavy loads, healing powers…when it is time to die, they are reborn from their ashes." A tiny bird's head peeked up from the black pile of ashes.

I looked on in wonder. " _Awwww_ ," I gushed, staring at the cute little birdie with a touched expression.

I turned around and sat in the chair quickly. "Listen, Professor Dumbledore, sir, it wasn't me," I said pleadingly. "I promise!"

"Haile, I don't think it was you," Dumbledore said, piercing me with his bright blue eyes. "I do have a question for you, though."

"You don't think it was me…" I repeated, sighing with relief. That was all I needed. "Thank you. What do you need to ask?"

"Is there anything you'd like to tell me?" he asked, looking down at me, over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "Anything…anything at all?"

I hesitated. I wanted to tell him about the voice I had been hearing. However, it seemed unimportant and childish at the moment, with all the attacks. But, what if it was connected with the attacks? But, what if Dumbledore thought I was insane and sent me home to the Dursleys forever because I was dangerous!?

I shook my head vigorously. "No, Professor," I said, firmly.

"You may go."


	7. Chapter 7: I Can Show You

The attack on Justin seemed to spread faster than Colin's attack. Especially because a ghost was involved. People were scared and confused. Almost everyone was leaving for home, except the Weasleys, Hermione, Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and myself.

Fred and George found the idea of me being the heir ridiculous and joked about it whenever they got a chance. I secretly appreciated it, but Percy and Ginny found it really aggravating.

Once the holidays began, and the castle was nearly empty, the Polyjuice Potion was just about ready. In fact, on Christmas morning, Hermione woke me up and then Ron to tell us the potion was ready.

"We'll do it tonight," she announced. Ron and I excitedly exchanged looks.

Hedwig came to visit me. She apparently had forgiven me for the train station incident. Ron, Hermione, and I opened our presents happily, and later that day, we joined the rest of the Weasleys and the few Slytherins that were staying for Christmas dinner, which was magnificent, as always.

As I entered the hall, Malfoy looked over my new sweater from Mrs. Weasley and snorted. "Nice sweater, Haile," he barked. "Goes _fantastic_ with your eyes."

I sat down, ignoring his comment until Hermione said, "You know, Haile, that sweater looks gorgeous with your eyes."

I almost spit out pumpkin juice. "Malfoy _just_ said that. He was joking though."

"That's weird," Hermione said laughing. "It really does look terrific."

"Thanks," I said brightly, glaring at Malfoy across the table. "What a git."

"We'll get our revenge soon enough," Ron muttered, and Hermione and I nodded.

After dinner, Hermione pulled Ron and I into the entrance hall. "Okay, we're almost ready. All we need now to get some of Crabbe and Goyle—that's who you'll be changing into. I already got some of Millicent Bulstrode's hairs off her robe. Then, we add it to the potions and we're done. However, we have to make sure the _real_ Crabbe and Goyle stay out of our way. Here's the plan."

Ron and I as always were dumbfounded but glad to have such a clever friend. She explained us the plan, and Ron and I for once listened intently.

We took the gorgeous-looking cupcakes filled with Sleeping Draught and put them in eyesight on the top of the banisters in the Entrance Hall. Crabbe and Goyle were one of the last ones to exit the Great Hall and when they did, they immediately caught sight of the cakes.

They ate them without hesitation. After a second of chewing, they plopped to the floor, lifeless. Ron and I sniggered a bit, but finally managed to control ourselves.

We wearily dragged them to a closet. "I can't believe I have to be a guy," I said, pouting, as I pulled out a couple of Crabbe's hairs. Ron laughed, and pulled out a few of Goyle's.

I expressed my complaint to Hermione when we arrived at the bathroom, putting in the last-minute ingredients. "That's what you get for not thinking of this earlier," Hermione said, giggling. "Look, I've had this planned for a couple weeks now. Crabbe and Goyle are your best bet—one of us girls was going to have to do it. Who else would he open up to?"

"But… _you_ get to be a girl," I told her, whiny.

" _I'm_ the one who organized this whole ordeal," Hermione said, proudly.

"True," I agreed, shrugging. "It's going to be weird…" I added, as Hermione handed a disgusting-looking glass of liquid.

We locked ourselves into three different stalls, taking our potions plus larger sets of robes and shoes we had nicked. I plugged my nose and we all guzzled them at the same time.

The potion tasted _foul_. But the aftermath was even more disturbing. Every inch of my skin seemed to bubbling, transforming, my face felt warm and tingly. Then, my inside churned and I felt like I was going to be sick. I dropped down to my hands and knees, gasping for breath.

I looked at my hands and arms in horror. They were broadening, extending. I instantly felt larger and more…masculine. I frowned in deep dissatisfaction. It was a gross feeling.

I stood up, shakily, and was inches taller. It was a very strange feeling. After I redressed, I unlocked the stall and walked out at the same time as Ron. "My robes felt really tight," I said, and gasped at my own voice. It was deep!

"I'M A GUY!" I yelled, and looked in the mirror. I gaped at my new self that looked identical to Crabbe.

"How does it feel?" Ron asked, laughing.

"Heavy," I said, looking down at Crabbe's beer belly. He really needed to go on a diet, this just wasn't healthy.

Ron was staring at me in a mixture of amusement, disgust, and shock. I quickly backtracked. _Heavy_. My eyes widened. "NO! NO! NOT LIKE THAT!" I practically screamed. "I just meant…he's fat, and stuff."

Ron laughed hysterically but it was no longer Ron's loud cackle. It was Goyle that had Ron's personality. "Alright, we have an hour," Ron said, after we were done looking at ourselves in the mirror.

"Hermione, come on!" I called.

"You two go on ahead. I'll explain later, I'm not coming after all," Hermione said, in a high-pitched voice.

Ron and I exchanged bewildered looks. "Are you sure?" Ron asked, confused.

"Yes!" Hermione said curtly. "Hurry."

Ron and I left, and we then realized we had no idea where the Slytherin common room was. Before we had much time to deliberate on this, Malfoy found us.

"Oh, there you are, Crabbe, Goyle," Malfoy said. "I was wondering where you two were. Come on."

Ron and I looked at each other and suppressed grins. Seeing Malfoy happy to see _us_ was a miracle! Well, it wasn't really us, was it?

Malfoy led the way, thankfully. We went all the way down to the dungeons. The common room had a green tint, and it very low, and long.

"Come upstairs to see it," he said, and apparently we were supposed to know what _it_ was.

"Upstairs?" I squeaked, except Crabbe's voice didn't allow me squeak very well. "To your—uh, I mean our—dormitory?"

"You've been up to _ours_ all the time," Ron hissed in my ear. Malfoy thankfully didn't notice. I shrugged, jerked my head towards Malfoy. I didn't want to go to _his_ bedroom.

"Yeah, it's in the dormitory," Malfoy said, starting to walk towards the stairs. "Besides, I want to get out of these robes."

I froze. My face heated up. I couldn't go upstairs. Especially if we were _changing_. Ron nudged me. "Come on…" he hissed.

Malfoy eyed me suspiciously now. "What's wrong with you, Crabbe?" he asked, his nose twitching.

Ron or Goyle or whatever coughed loudly. "He's fine!" Ron said. "Why don't we, um, wait here?"

Malfoy looked confused. "Uh, you guys just said at dinner how hot you were in your robes. Besides, the paper is upstairs. Whatever, I guess I'll just see you tomorrow." He looked irritated.

"No!" I said loudly. "Um, we'll come up I suppose." I couldn't waste this time by being shy! Besides it wasn't even my body. And I'd just look away from Malfoy and Ron.

We ambled upstairs into Malfoy's dormitory. I looked around; it was very messy. Malfoy must be a pig! "I've told you guys a million times to clean up your messes!" Malfoy scolded us, kicking a pile of clothes on the floor.

Okay, so maybe Malfoy was the _neat freak_ here. Weird. Malfoy took out a pair of pajamas from his trunk, and Ron and I finally found large pairs of pajamas on the floor that would only fit Crabbe and Goyle.

Malfoy hurriedly stripped off his robes to which I looked away, my cheeks burning. My vision blurred with embarrassment, and I covered my face with my hands.

Ron followed suit, and my cheeks flushing harder, I stripped off my huge robes, and put on the pajamas as quickly as I could.

"Why is your face red, Crabbe?" Malfoy asked, now rummaging through his stuff, looking for something.

"I—um, nothing," I muttered.

Malfoy showed us a newspaper clipping about Ron's dad, and the car incident. Ron and I stared at in horror, before forcing ourselves to chuckle.

Finally, Malfoy started to ramble on about Dumbledore, and _Mudbloods_ , and how a Mudblood died last time the Chamber was opened. "So, you know who's doing it then?" I asked eagerly.

Malfoy stared at me dumbfounded. " _No_ , Crabbe. I've told you a million times. I wish I did, though. Did I tell you the Ministry raided our house? Lucky they didn't check under the drawing room, though, eh?"

"Yeah, lucky," Ron said, probably making a mental note to tell his dad to check under the drawing room. "But about the attacks…do you know who did it last time?"

" _No_ , Goyle What is it with you? Whoever it was got expelled, though. Probably still in Azkaban."

"What's that?" I asked curiously.

"The wizard prison!" Draco said impatiently. "You're so stupid sometimes, Crabbe."

Ron and I glanced at each other. We didn't a lot of time left, and we were pretty much through here. Nothing else to find out. Just one more thing I wanted to ask. "So, Draco," I said, clearing my throat. "Why is it that you and Haile…you know, Potter, hate each other so much?"

Draco gave me a weird look, but then shrugged. "She's a brat, that's all," Draco said, looking out a nearby window. "Gets on my nerves. Just because she has a dumb scar, everyone treats her different. Well, not me! And people think _she's_ the heir! As if!"

Ron and I looked at each other, almost laughing. Ron said, "HA! FUNNY! Anyway, I think you'll, you know, cream her next time you get back out on the Quidditch field."

I caught on. "Oh, yes," I agreed, in Crabbe's deep rumble. "Maybe next time you can stop _flirting_ and actually see the Snitch."

Malfoy stood up angrily. " _Flirting_?! Not you guys, too! I have no idea what you all are talking about!"

He probably didn't. He was a twelve-year old boy, after all. Girls = gross! I giggled. As if Draco Malfoy would flirt with me anyway! That was a laugh. We were sworn enemies. It was like…Dudley giving up sweets.

"We forgot something in the Great Hall," Ron said, standing up suddenly.

"Yes, brownies," I added helpfully. "Be back soon!"

Ron and I rushed back to the closet where we left Crabbe and Goyle. We gave them back their shoes. We were starting to turn into ourselves again, and by the time we returned to the bathroom, we were.

Also, we found out that Hermione hadn't come with us for a reason. She hadn't turned into Millicent; she had turned into her cat. And she wasn't transforming back.

We had no choice but to send her to the hospital wing. She stayed there several weeks, and became the new topic of gossip between the students at Hogwarts. Ron and I visited every day.

We had filled her in on the conversation we had with Malfoy, but it was no help.

All we knew was that Malfoy wasn't in on it, and he thought I was a brat. _Nothing new._

One day, we had just left visiting her, and we decided to take the long route, to avoid passing Filch, who was even crabbier nowadays. We passed by Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and exchanged amused looks.

"Brings back memories, eh?" I asked.

"Ye— " Ron fell.

I gasped. He was soaked. The water coming from out of the bathroom flooded the entire hall. Ron cursed angrily, and I helped him up. "What happened?" I inquired.

"Slipped on the water," Ron muttered. We walked towards the bathroom, and opened the door. Moaning Myrtle's sobs echoed throughout the room.

"What do you want?" Myrtle screamed. "Come to throw something at me?" Her voice was nearly hysterical as her sobs. "Well, you wouldn't be the first! And not the last, either, I expect!"

"Someone threw something at you?" I asked, confused.

"Yes!" Myrtle said, irritably. "It was that little book over there."

I peered at it. It was a small, black book, looking similar to a diary.

"So, why did someone throw it at you?" Ron asked. "Besides, who cares, right? You can't, you know, feel it."

That was definitely the wrong thing to say. "RIGHT, WHO CARES ABOUT POOR MOANING MYRTLE!" she shrieked. "CAN'T FEEL IT! WELL, YOU KNOW WHAT I _CAN_ FEEL? PAIN IN MY HEART! IT HURTS, YOU KNOW!" She let out a heart-wrenching sob and disappeared in her little toilet.

I picked up the book on the floor. "T.M. Riddle, who's that?" I asked, reading the smudged name on the first page.

"Oh, he won special services for the school," Ron said, airily.

I looked at him strangely. "And how do you know that?" I asked, my eyebrows furling.

"I only had to polish that one, like, three hundred times," he said, rolling his eyes. "For my detention, in the trophy room."

"The whole diary is blank!" I said, flipping through the pages.

A couple days later, when February rolled around, Hermione was released from the hospital wing. I showed her Riddle's diary. Hermione clapped her hands excitedly. "The diary is fifty years old!" she said.

We stared at her blankly, anticipating a "Hermione-moment". She said her theory very fast and giddy, like she always did when she had a new idea. "This diary is _fifty years old_. The Chamber of Secrets is _fifty years old_. This Riddle guy…he won special services to the school! Maybe he caught the culprit!"

"There's nothing written in the diary, Hermione!" Ron argued.

Hermione tried everything. Spells to reveal invisible ink, her Revealer…nothing worked.

We all shrugged. "Oh well," I said.

But I never threw the diary out. As a couple weeks passed, I still didn't lose hope on it. I kept it, just in case.

Also, people were starting to have more hope. No more attacks occurred, and a lot of people stopped treating me like a villain. Well, not Ernie, but most people did. Also, the Mandrakes, that would cure the petrified, were almost ready.

Finally, Valentine's Day rolled around. Gilderoy Lockhart personally decorated the Great Hall, much to the dismay of all the teachers. After breakfast, I was greeted unexpectedly outside the Great Hall.

It was a boy, maybe a year younger than me. He was a first-year, I presumed. "Happy Valentine's Day, Haile," he said, his cheeks turning pink.

My lips curved upward into a shocked smile. "Uh…thanks? You too," I said, patting his shoulder and walking away, bemused.

After Herbology, another boy, a third-year from Ravenclaw approached me. "Happy Valentine's Day, Haile," he said, slipping a card into my hands, and walking away.

What was going on here? This happened about three or four more times that day and I was starting to get annoyed. I didn't like this shower of attention on such a silly day.

I expressed my dilemma to Hermione. "Well, Haile, you are very pretty," she said, giggling. "And you're famous."

I shrugged this off, and couldn't wait until the day was over. I went down to the library, and thankfully no one stopped me to say anything. Except for one.

And I doubt he had any inkling of giving me a _card_.

"Hello, Potter," Malfoy practically spat in my face.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" I said in mock cheerfulness. Then, I remember the last time I saw him. My cheeks burned ferociously. "Uh, gotta go."

"So, Potter," he said, as I started to walk away. I stopped, my back to him. "How many cards did you get today?"

"Oh, shut it," I said, rolling my eyes. "It's just a stupid day."

"I bet I got just a few more than you, anyway," he said, lightly.

I turned around, and his face was smirking. "Uh, not _uh_ ," I disagreed. "I got, like, six, or something." I tucked my long hair behind my ears, smiling triumphantly.

"I received _eight_."

"You're kidding."

"Nope."

"A little git like you?"

"Watch your mouth."

"Watch your face."

"What?"

"I don't know." I shrugged.

We eyed each other evilly, and then he said, "There's always next year, Potter."

I turned on my heel and ran upstairs.

That night, I tried something different. I opened the diary, and took out an ink pen and inkbottle. I wrote neatly in the diary, _'_ _My name is Haile Potter.'_

The words sunk into the diary almost at once, like water being poured into a plant's soil. Then, to my surprise, words appeared on the paper, and they weren't the ones _I_ wrote.

They read, ' _Hello, Haile. I'm Tom Riddle.'_

My heart spluttered. I wrote back eagerly. _'_ _Good to meet you. Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets, Tom?'_

Again, the words sunk in, and new ones appeared in reply. _'_ _Pleasure's all mine. Yes, the Chamber of Secrets, is indeed real. In my time, the monster attacked several students and finally succeeded in killing one. I caught that person and had them expelled—just expelled, no imprisonment.'_

 _'_ _It's happening again. Attacks—no one knows who's doing it. Who did it in your time?'_ I wrote.

 _'_ _I can't tell you. But…_ _ **I can…show you**_ _. Let me take you back to the night I caught that person. My memory. Don't say a word—we can't hear you. Just observe, and follow me wherever I go. You might miss something important.'_

I nodded, and then wrote, _'_ _OK.'_

A bright light shone out of the diary, blinding me completely, and suddenly, my feet were off the ground, my head was spinning, my ears roaring, and then, I was on the floor again.

I looked around. It was Dumbledore's office. But Dumbledore wasn't Headmaster at this time. It was another wizard pacing the room. I waited patiently and a young boy entered the room.

I gaped. He was almost as handsome as Cedric Diggory. Realization poured over me. Was this Tom Riddle?

The current Headmaster nodded. "Hello, Tom." So, it was Tom Riddle!

Tom Riddle sat down in front of the Headmaster's desk. "I was wondering if you had thought about what we talked about, Professor Dippet," he said, looking at his hands. Professor Dippet took a seat as well.

Professor Dippet sighed heavily. "Yes, Tom. I understand that you don't want to return to the orphanage. However, if circumstances were different…"

"You mean with these attacks, sir?" Tom asked, eagerly.

I walked closer to them, apparently invisible. "Yes, Tom. You are Muggle-born, then?"

"No," he said, rather coldly. "I'm a half-blood."

"I see. But you grew up amongst Muggles?" Professor Dippet asked calmly.

"My mother died when I was born…my father left before that time," he said, and my heart swelled at his sad life. I instinctively walked closer to him.

"I'm very sorry," the Headmaster said. "With the death of that poor little girl…the Ministry thinking of shutting Hogwarts down…you'd be safer at the orphanage."

"I see. Well, I'll be off. Thank you," he added, politely, standing up.

After Riddle exited the office, he stared thoughtfully at a wall, biting his lip. Then, abruptly, he stalked off down the corridor, with a purposeful stride. I ran to keep up.

Then, Riddle stopped as quickly as he started. A fifty-year younger Albus Dumbledore stood in front of him. I stared.

"Why up and about so late, Tom?" Dumbledore inquired lightly.

"I had to see the Headmaster, Professor," Tom Riddle said politely, with a different tone I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"I see. Well, on up to bed, quickly," Dumbledore said, ushering him away.

Tom nodded, and continued with his brisk pace at once. He led me downstairs into the dungeons, where I had my very own Potions class. We were down there for a few minutes, Riddle waiting patiently.

Suddenly, a person entered the room, carrying a very large cage of some sort. Once again, I stared. It was Hagrid, as a young boy! He looked around thirteen, a little older than me.

"Evening, Rubeus," Tom said evenly.

"What're yeh doin', Tom?" asked Hagrid uneasily.

"Turning you in. Listen, it's nothing personal. The dead girl's parents are coming tomorrow. We can at least kill the thing that's been causing all these attacks." Riddle raised his eyebrows.

Hagrid shook his head ferociously. "He didn't do it! He didn't hurt anyone!" he cried, trying to shield the cage he was carrying. I heard weird noises coming from inside it. I backed against the wall in fear.

"Don't be stupid, Rubeus," warned Riddle, and he raised his wand. Light flooded the room, the door flew open, Hagrid was knocked inside, and whatever was is the cage escaped. I ran into the corridor to see what it was. My eyes widened in horror.

It was the largest spider I'd ever seen in my life. It scurried down the hall swiftly. I looked back into the room, where the color of the memory was fading, Hagrid was sobbing, and Riddle, as if he knew I was there, looked straight into my eyes and smiled a gorgeous half-smile.

I was suddenly back into my dormitory. Luckily, I was still alone. I jumped up as if electrocuted, and ran downstairs where everyone was hanging out in the common room.

I pulled over Hermione and Ron, still shaking. I told them hurriedly about the memory. "It was Hagrid," I said. "Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago."


	8. Chapter 8: Follow the Spiders

Hermione, Ron, and I discussed this the next day in the common room. Ron didn't like this Riddle fellow very much. "Who does he think he is, squealing on Hagrid? He just wanted that dumb trophy."

I disagreed. I still felt sorry for that poor, handsome boy because he was like me in some way. I wished _I_ could stay at Hogwarts over summer, too.

Hermione was strictly logical. "Perhaps Riddle got the wrong person," she said. "Hagrid must have been expelled straight after that…and the attacks must have ceased, because he got the award."

In the end, we decided not to go to Hagrid about it unless there was another attack. Besides, the Mandrakes were almost ready, Professor Sprout was saying. Also, I had more pressing things on my mind, according to Hermione.

Us second-years had to choose courses for next year. Ron and I picked out the easiest sounding ones together, while Hermione really went to town, taking as many advanced ones as she could. Ron and I shook our heads sympathetically at her.

Also, my mind began to focus on Quidditch again. I had a match against Hufflepuff coming up, and I was determined to beat Cedric Diggory. However, I came back to my dormitory, and Lavender and Parvati were shaking their heads in shock.

I glanced around and gasped. The entire room was thrown apart. Bed sheets, curtains, and clothes lay sprawled all over the room, the possessions from each of our trunks were scattered around the room. It looked as if a tornado just swept through.

"Who did this?" I asked them.

They shook their heads, and wearily began cleaning up before Hermione found us, and waved her wand around, cleaning things up in a jiffy.

"Anything missing?" I asked Parvati and Lavender.

They shook their heads. "It's just… _weird_ ," Lavender said. "I don't understand why anyone would just want to mess up our room."

"Well…" Parvati started and trailed off, glancing at me. "I don't care, Haile, it's not probably not even your fault."

I was taken aback, but I recovered quickly. "Yeah…I apologize anyway…just in case."

Hermione whispered in my ear, "The diary's gone."

I realized this was true, looking around for it. Why would someone tear apart the entire room for _that_? Unless…unless they knew its secret. My head spun.

The next day was the Quidditch match. I woke up in high spirits despite yesterday's mishap in the dormitory. The weather was perfect: sunny, with a breeze. Wood was more than enthusiastic at breakfast.

When breakfast was over, I left the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione to walk down to the locker rooms.

That's when I heard the voice again.

 _"_ _Rip…tear…kill…kill…KILL!"_

I screamed at the top of my lungs. "It was the voice again! Why am I the _only one_ who seems to hear it around here!?" I wondered frantically, gripping Ron and Hermione's arms in a death grip.

Hermione clamped her hand to her mouth. "I finally get it!" Hermione gasped. "I need to go to the library!"

She ran away. Ron and I exchanged confused glances, and then shrugged it off. Pushing the scary voice to the back of my mind, I put on my game face.

I dressed into my Quidditch robes quickly, eager for the game to start. We walked out together, as a team, our hearts beating with excitement. I saw Cedric Diggory. He winked at me. My heart started beating even faster.

However, before the captains shook hands, Professor McGonagall called through the loudspeaker, "This match has been cancelled!" Everyone protested loudly at once. "Follow your Heads of Houses back to your common rooms _immediately!_ "

Everyone followed her instructions. Her tone of voice made it clear she was not joking around. Something serious had happened.

She found Ron and I at once. Ron had come to find me as soon as McGonagall announced the cancellation. "You two…come with me." We followed her wordlessly into the castle and up to the hospital wing.

Ron and I drew in sharp breaths simultaneously.

For there lay our best friend Hermione Granger on a hospital bed, petrified, a look of shock on her face. On the bed next to her lay a fifth-year Ravenclaw girl.

I shook my head in horror. "I bet no one will think _I'm_ the Heir now," I muttered shakily. "This is my best friend!"

Tears welled up in my eyes, and on the way back to the common room, Ron and I walked in silence. McGonagall led the way, her face tight.

In the common room, McGonagall issued the new tight schedule the school had to follow, along with new rules, including the exclusion of Quidditch.

Lee Jordan was furious. "Two Gryffindors, a Gryffindor ghost, a Hufflepuff, and a Ravenclaw petrified. No Slytherins, HM! WONDER WHY! Let's just get rid of all the Slytherins!" he roared at the crowd, to which he received enthusiastic replies.

Percy was stunned. "He's just shocked a prefect would be attack. That fifth year Ravenclaw, Penelope Clearwater, was a prefect," Fred told Ron and I.

Ron and I looked at each. "Hagrid's tonight?" I asked, and Ron nodded, already knowing what I was thinking.

"Get your cloak," Ron murmured in an undertone.

That night, after Parvati and Lavender fell asleep, I crept downstairs with my Invisibility Cloak. I waited in the common room until Ron appeared.

We set off together, under the cloak, not daring to speak. If we were caught now, it would be even worse than usual. All the new rules, precautions…

Come to think of it, it was really stupid of us to even go out at night with a monster supposedly roaming the school, but we had to see Hagrid.

We managed _somehow_ to leave the castle undetected. We didn't even run into any teachers, and most thankfully, Peeves.

Even outside, we were able to sneak by Professor Snape who was standing guard by the front door. As we passed, I distinctly wondered if Snape was a vampire—why didn't he sleep? His skin was pale…he was awfully cranky. And come to think of it, I had never seen Snape in the sun!

I made a mental note to tell my theory to Ron later.

When we reached Hagrid's house, we knocked softly on the door, keeping the Cloak on. He let us in unwillingly, but he seemed really distracted.

"What do you two want?" he asked, his hands trembling, and he kept shooting glances out of the windows.

"Well, actually, Hagrid we kind of have a bone to pick with you," I said, clearly. "You see—"

There was a knock at the door, interrupting my train of thought. Hagrid jumped. "Get—the—cloak—on!" he spat, and reached for the door.

Ron and I pulled it on just in time, backing into the corner of his house.

It was Dumbledore, and then the man that followed him was unfamiliar for a moment, and then Ron breathed in my ear, "Cornelius Fudge…the Minister!"

My eyes widened, and I recognized him from the papers. I waited anxiously to see what they wanted with Hagrid.

"Uh…yes, Minister? Professor Dumbledore, sir?" Hagrid asked, his face paling.

Dumbledore's face was unusually grave, and Fudge looked plain scared. Very jumpy.

"Hagrid, I think you know exactly what we want," Fudge said, solemnly. "I do feel terrible about this, but come now, four attacks. _Four_. The Ministry has to take action."

"No, you're not taking me away!" Hagrid suddenly burst out. "Not Azkaban! I didn't do anything!"

"I have my confidence in you, Hagrid," Dumbledore said gravely. "However…there are…others…that feel different."

Fudge sighed, and there came another knock at the door. Lucius Malfoy walked in without invitation. I almost disliked him as much as his son. It was close.

He held up a single piece of paper, not saying anything. Dumbledore took it, and read it over swiftly, and looked back up at Lucius.

"I see. So, all twelve of you…have decided I'm…what's the right phrase here?" Dumbledore asked politely.

"Losing your touch," Lucius said lightly. "Look, Dumbledore, you can't blame us. All we ask is that you should step aside."

Ron and I shot each other horrified glances. No Dumbledore?

Hagrid was thinking along our lines. "Get rid of Dumbledore? You're bloody mad! How many of those governors did you have to pay off, eh?"

Lucius merely smirked, and swept from the house, followed by Dumbledore who subtly said more to Ron and I in the corner than anyone else, "I will only have truly left this school when there none here are loyal to me. You will also that find help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

Hagrid cleared his throat, as Dumbledore left the house as well. "All I can say is to **_follow the spiders_**. Yep!" And with another weird glance from Fudge, he left as well. Fudge trudged after them.

Ron and I looked at each other, waiting a few minutes before leaving too.

As summer came and went, Dumbledore gone, Hagrid gone, people began to become more worried. Visitors were not allowed in the hospital wing anymore. And Ron and I were stumped about Hagrid's silly advice. We couldn't spot a single spider.

In Herbology one day, the Hufflepuff group that had upset me that one day in the library approached me and apologized. "We now think it's Draco," Ernie declared.

"I don't," I told them. Then, I spotted the spiders.

They were scurrying outside, in a straight line, heading towards the Forbidden Forest. I stared, and nudged Ron. A second later, he was staring too, turning paler by the second.

After Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ron and I discussed that tonight would be best. Ron was still uneasy about the whole spider thing, but I convinced him it was all we had right now.

I couldn't stand the fact that people actually thought Hagrid was the culprit! Lockhart was having a grand old time, telling everyone he thought it was Hagrid all along. If I thought I disliked him before, I sure did now.

We had wait a long time that night. Nowadays the common room was crowded until midnight when everyone finally went to bed. We were the last ones in the common room.

Finally, we couldn't delay it any longer. Ron whispered encouraging thoughts to himself on the way down, but when we reached Hagrid's hut, again, luckily undetected, we noticed the spiders again, heading for the forest.

Ron gulped. "I don't want to go in there," he said, glaring at the spiders with a pained expression. "No…"

"Come on, Ron!" I urged. "We have to. It's all we have."

Ron nodded, and ran inside, and returning with Fang. "We're taking the dog!" he cried, and I almost laughed.

"Fine."

I lit my wand, and Ron sighed, but finally trudged forward with Fang, and I walked briskly beside him. We followed the trail of spiders into the forest, stepping on sticks, tripping over roots…

We continued on for a while, and it only got darker until it was pitch-black, and the trees were getting thicker. Ron and I didn't say much, but walked silently along.

It was very hard to see where the spiders were going, and I had to constantly check with the light illuminating from my wand where they were headed.

Finally, Fang gave a loud, whiny bark. Ron and I jumped at least a foot into the air, and Ron moaned, "No…Oh, no, no, no."

"SH!" I tried to say, but my words were lost. It didn't matter. It already heard fang. Up ahead, I saw something humungous moving slightly.

We waited, frozen, as it carved a pathway, and then suddenly, we couldn't see it anymore. Ron gulped. "What now?" he whispered.

Then, with a loud roar, that made Ron jump again, bright flashing lights appeared to the right of us. "Ron!" I exclaimed. "It's your dad's car!"

It was in poor condition from being in the Forbidden Forest for so long, but it was seemingly still working. Ron chuckled. "Been here all along…"

I looked down at the ground, but the car had scared all the spiders away. I huffed. "We have to go find them again," I told Ron, but Ron was staring straight ahead, frozen once again.

Suddenly, something large and hairy seized me around my stomach. I screamed, and I looked around frantically. Ron had left the ground too, but it was too dark to see anything. I heard Fang whimper.

I tried to scream again, but nothing would come out. I was now being carried somewhere, and I couldn't even who—or what—was carrying me.

After an immeasurable amount of time, we reached some sort of a hollow, and my eyes had adjusted to the darkness by then. All I could see everywhere were spiders.

And not the tiny ones, either. They were humungous. They were even larger than the one I saw in Riddle's memory. I glanced over at Ron, aware of his arachnophobia.

We were placed down on the ground, horrified. Fang was placed next to us.

Also, I became aware that the spiders were talking. "Aragog!" they called. "Aragog!" A quiet chant.

"What the bloody hell is Aragog?" I moaned, and Ron shook his head, fearfully.

A absolutely enormous spider, bigger than the rest, emerged from the web hangings in the back. It glided rather gracefully to where Ron and I stood shakily. Its eyes, however, were a milky white. It was obviously blind.

"What?" he asked calmly.

I looked at Ron to see if he could hear the spiders talking to. He was looking at Aragog and back at the spiders that had been holding him. He could, too.

"Humans," the spiders said together.

"Hagrid?" Aragog asked.

"No, they strangers," the spiders told him. Why were they speaking in unison?!

"We're Hagrid's friends!" I shouted, fear oozing out of me. "Listen, he's in trouble. He sent us."

"Sent you? Unusual. Why?" Aragog spoke with a calmness that seemed to be holding the other spiders back from killing us. His gentle voice was almost comforting.

"They think that Hagrid is setting a monster on the students, like they thought he did last time!" I cried, fretfully.

Ron had a brilliant idea. "He's waiting for us," he said, his voice trembling as much as his body. "He's waiting for us to return."

"Why did he not come himself?" Aragog asked.

"There's people watching his every move," I answered, thinking quickly. "If we don't get back soon, he'll have already gone to Azkaban!"

Aragog's pinchers rapidly clicked. The crowd of spiders imitated him, too. "That was years ago!" Aragog said furiously, his calm voice forgotten. "They thought it was I, who was attacking those children. They thought Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets!"

"But it's not true?" I asked.

"No!" he said, angrily, clicking his pinchers still. "Hagrid was only a boy when he received me. He cared for me, kept me hidden in the castle, feeding me, nursing me….When I discovered and blamed for the death of a girl, he tried to protect me. I lived here ever since."

"I see. If not you, then who?" I asked, my voice ringing through the forest.

"The body of the girl was found in the bathroom. All I know, is that it lives in the castle, and we spiders fear it above all others."

"You know, then? What is it?" Ron asked eagerly.

"We do not speak of it!" Aragog said sharply. "Go, humans! Before I decide to kill you. Go, return to Hagrid. He would be angry with me if I chose to feed you to my young…"

He backed slowly away, and Ron and I ran for our lives, the spiders clicking angrily at our retreat.


	9. Chapter 9: It Was You

Ron and I ran and ran and ran, with Fang at our side, until we reached the spot where we the car sat.

Ron and I jumped into it, and the car, without any further instructions, speeded to the entrance of the forest.

We were out. We were free. I laughed hysterically, even though there was nothing funny about what happened. "Hagrid's innocent!" Ron said, gaily. "But…who then?"

I shrugged. "Let's just go to bed. We've had enough adventures for tonight," I said, going inside Hagrid's cabin to retrieve the Cloak Ron left in there.

"I can't believe Hagrid told us to go in there," Ron muttered angrily on the way back. "They were going to kill us!"

"If we hadn't told them Hagrid was waiting for us," I said, shaking my head. "Good thinking, Ron."

Ron just shook his head. On our way back upstairs, I thought very hard about what he had heard. Hagrid and Aragog were not culprits. The dead girl was found in the bathroom.

We reached the common room when something dawned on me. "Ron!" I exclaimed.

"Yes?" he asked sleepily.

"The dead girl…was found in a bathroom. What if she never left?" I asked excitedly.

"Moaning Myrtle?" Ron cried, incredulously. "We'll ask tomorrow! But now, Haile, we need to sleep. Like you said, no more adventures tonight."

I agreed, and I went to bed, anxiously awaiting the answers tomorrow would bring.

However, Ron and I were having trouble getting away from our classes, especially when Professor McGonagall informed everyone there were exams.

"WHAT?" the class erupted during Transfigurations.

I had been so hung up on the Chamber of Secrets this year that I had not even paid much attention to my schoolwork. Without Hermione, I was doomed. Ron held up his wand. "Can you imagine me taking exams with _this_?" he groaned.

During dinner that night, Professor McGonagall made another announcement, though this one was much more cheerful. "The Mandrakes will be ready tonight. The people that have been petrified will be revived. We hope that we will be able to find out the culprit."

Cheering erupted thought the Great Hall. "We'll just ask Hermione!" Ron said to me. "No need to talk to Myrtle. Hermione will have all the answers, I expect."

Ginny plopped down next to Ron, looking extremely sick, and really tense. "What's up, Ginny?" I coaxed.

"I…I can't…"

"Ginny, what's wrong?" Ron demanded, looking alarmed.

Percy abruptly interrupted the conversation. "Ginny, you're looking tired, why don't you run up to bed?"

Ginny hesitated and then nodded. She dashed out of the Great Hall. Ron and I turned to Percy, who took Ginny's seat. "What's up with her, Perce?" Ron asked.

"Oh, um. Nothing, really." We didn't look convinced, so he continued. "Listen, she saw something the other day…I asked her not to say anything…I hoped she wouldn't tell…"

Ron tried to press the subject, but Percy left as quickly as Ginny had. Ron and I shrugged together and continued eating.

"I miss Hermione," I said wistfully. "Ron…I think I'm going to ask Professor McGonagall for permission to see her."

"You'll see her tomorrow," Ron pointed out, but I could tell he wanted to, too.

"Yes, but…I just want to," I said. "It's just not the same."

Ron nodded. "I know. Let's go."

When we approached Professor McGonagall, she looked up sternly. "Yes?"

"Professor…I just wanted…to know…if we could see Hermione. I…do miss her a lot," I said, looking down, brushing my bangs away from my face. "I…"

To my surprise, Professor McGonagall's expression softened. She glanced at the two of us. "Go. Tell Madam Pomfrey you have my permission." She tearfully eyed us, and then shooed us away.

Ron and I grinned at our good luck. We raced upstairs. Madam Pomfrey wasn't enthusiastic about our visit, but the sight of our faces made her agree.

We sat by Hermione, frowning. Then, I noticed something I hadn't before. There was a piece of paper crumbled up in her right hand. I motioned to it to Ron, and quietly, we both tried to get it out.

Ron tried for a long time, and finally he managed to twist it out. He unfolded it, and Ron and I read it silently.

It was a very long paragraph about Basiliks. They were absolutely HUGE serpents, and it has venomous teeth, a murderous stare that kills anyone who meets its eyes, spiders flee from it, and the crow of the rooster is fatal to it. Hermione had scribbled the word _pipes_ at the bottom.

Ron and I's faces turned from curious to…well, what was it? Fear? Realization? Surprise? We knew what was finally attacking everyone! Not a _spider,_ but a spider's enemy—a Basilik! Once again, Hermione had come through.

"That's why I'm the only one who can hear it!" I cried, the pieces fitting together finally. "It's a snake—I'm a Parseltongue!"

"And that's why Colin didn't die. He saw it through his camera, right?" Ron said.

"And Justin saw it through Nick, who's already dead," I put in.

"And Hermione warned that Penelope girl to look through a mirror," Ron said, remembering the day Hermione was petrified.

"And the cat?" I wondered.

"Water!" Ron said. "Water from the bathroom that night."

"The crowing of a rooster…OH, MY GOODNESS, RON!" I nearly screamed. "Remember in the beginning of the year? Hagrid's roosters were killed?"

Ron racked his brains and then gasped. "Yes," he breathed.

"It's been using the plumbing," I said, looking at the word _pipes_ Hermione had scribbled.

"And spiders flee before it!" Ron added.

"It all fits!" I exclaimed.

"The entrance," Ron said, gripping my arm. "In the bathroom. Moaning _Myrtle's_ bathroom."

"Come on!" I said, jumping up. "We have to tell Professor McGonagall!"

Ron and I nearly sprinted out of the hospital wing, but we never even made it down the corridor. An announcement flooded the school. It was McGonagall. "All students return to their dormitories at once. Teachers to the staff room. _Immediately._ "

Ron and I didn't return to our dormitories. We rushed to the staff room, and listened outside the door, undetected. The teachers probably didn't even notice.

"A student has been taken into the Chamber itself," McGonagall was saying.

I heard several teachers gasp and scream, and Snape's voice said, "How can you be sure"

McGonagall said, "The Heir left another message. _Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever_."

"What student?" asked Madam Hooch.

"Ginny Weasley," McGonagall choked out.

I looked hurriedly at Ron, and his face was indescribable. I had never seen anyone look like that. It scared me. It brought tears to my eyes. My stomach was a bubbling pit of pain and my heart ached awfully.

Snape's voice spoke again, "So, Gilderoy, it's your turn at last. Go fetch the girl, will you? You were telling me the other day you knew where the entrance was."

"Yes, thank you, Gilderoy," McGonagall said.

Lockhart spluttered for a few moments and finally said, "Uh, yes, I'll be in my office getting ready."

"Come on!" I told Ron, angry tears slicing my eyes. "We're going. We're going to save Ginny. Right now."

We ran away from the door, before Lockhart got out. We met him at his office. If he was really going in, he would need our help.

"Oh, hello," he said, brushing past us, and starting to pack all of his stuff away.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

"Nothing in the job description said anything about saving anyone," he muttered.

"You're running away!" I screamed, angrily. "It's his sister!" I jerked my head toward a pale Ron. "AND YOU'RE RUNNING AWAY!"

"Haley, dear, it's not like that," he said, still packing.

"YES, IT IS! AND FOR THE LAST TIME, MY NAME IS HAILE, NOT HALEY!" I shouted at him. "You faking, two-timing idiot! You're coming with us! NOW!"

"It's not quite as easy as faking," Lockhart murmured. "Memory Charms, interviewing other people…my fans expect much of me…and now, I'll have to erase _your_ memory."

"Expelliarmus!" I shouted, and his wand flew out of his hand.

"What do you want me to do?" Lockhart cried, grabbing at his curls.

"Come. With. Us. Now." My voice was poisonous.

He obliged. We led him to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Moaning Myrtle was waiting for us. "Hello," she said. "What do you want?"

"How did you die?" I asked, bluntly.

"Oh, it was rather terrible. I was crying my eyes out," she said, eager to tell her story. "Because Olive Hornby had been making fun of my glasses. Someone came in, speaking a different language. I unlocked the door to see who it was, and…I died."

"How?" I asked.

"All I remember is a huge pair of yellow eyes," she said proudly. "I came back to haunt Olive Hornby. And oh, did I."

She pointed behind us, and Ron and I whipped around. We saw what looked like an ordinary sink. However, with a closer look, one side was carved with serpents.

"Say something in Parseltongue," Ron told me, his voice cracking.

" _Open up_ ," I said, and Ron stared at me like I was crazy, which meant I was definitely speaking Parseltongue.

The sink began to move. We watched as the sink slid right out, leaving a black hole in the middle of the bathroom. I turned to Ron, my face solemn and serious. "Ron, I'm going to go in there," I said, my voice even. "I'm going to save your sister. She's still alive…I just know it."

Ron nodded. "I'm coming too," he whispered.

"Cute," Lockhart chirped. "Now, I best be going."

"You get to go first!" I said with mock cheerfulness.

Ron pushed him in, Lockhart yelling at the way down. I jumped in after him, without hesitation, and Ron went after me. I was beginning to feel the fear, especially after I hit the hard bottom.

I lit my wand. Ron came a second later, and Lockhart was shakily trying to stand. I jumped to my feet. We were in a tunnel. "This way," I said, pointing ahead.

"Remember, close your eyes at any sign of movement," Ron reminded us.

Up ahead, we found the snake's skin. Chills moved through me as I saw it, and the fear starting to bubble in the pit of my stomach increased.

Unexpectedly and suddenly, Lockhart tackled Ron to the ground, snatching his wand, and pointing it at us. "HEY!" I shouted.

"This is it! Will _I_ have a story when I get back! You two are going to have your memories erased!" he cried wildly. _"_ _Obliviate!"_

Using Ron's wand was a big mistake. The spell backfired on him, and Lockhart was thrown backwards. Ron and I stared in horror. Rocks started to tumbled from over our heads. We both ran, hands over our heads.

However, we ran in opposite directions. The next thing I knew, I was alone, facing a solid wall of rocks. "Ron!" I screamed.

"Haile!" he called through the wall. "I'm with this moron, his memory's lost!"

I thought quickly. There wasn't much time left. "I'm going to go on ahead," I said clearly, sounding more brave than I felt. "If I'm not back in an hour…go."

"I'll try to shift some of this rock…so you…you and Ginny…can get back through," he said shakily. "Haile…good luck."

"Thanks," I called. I turned around. I walked. I didn't want to. I had to. I needed to. I forced my feet forward. I was scared now. I was alone. And scared.

I walked and walked and walked until I reached a dead end. Serpents were on the wall. " _Open up,"_ I hissed again, in a voice that didn't sound like mine.

The walls opened. I walked in.

I now stood in a low-lit chamber. It was extremely frightening for some reason. It gave me the creeps. Then, I saw her.

She was laying on the floor, fifty yards away. I ran to her. "Ginny!" I said breathlessly. "Please! Wake up!"

She was motionless, pale, and cold. "You can't be dead!" I said, tears springing to my eyes again. "No!"

"She won't wake," came a quiet, cold voice.

I turned around. The boy from the diary's memory stood there, in all his glory. The outline of his body was blurred, as if he _were_ a memory. "Tom Riddle?" I asked. "How are you…what are you…"

"Don't speak, young Haile," he said, walking closer to me. "This girl…she will die soon."

"No, please," I begged. "Please help me!"

He walked even closer to me. He was a few inches from me now. His hand reached up and touched my hair. He tucked it behind my ear. I opened my mouth to protest, and his other hand put a finger to it.

"So young you are," he said, softly. "So beautiful. I've wanted to talk to you for a long time."

I shook my head in impatience. "Look, Tom, we're in the Chamber of Secrets! We have to save her!"

I spotted the little black diary near her. "Yes, the diary," he said, watching me looking at it.

"Tom…how did Ginny get like this?" I asked him suspiciously.

"She opened her heart and spilled her secrets to the diary. To _me_."

"What?" I asked, my heart sinking, trying to take a step back. His hand caught my back, and pulled me close again.

"As she became more attached to me, I grew stronger," he told me, smiling a lovely half-smile. "And then…I reversed the operation."

"What?" I whispered again.

"Ginny opened the Chamber of Secrets, you silly girl. She killed the roosters and wrote on the walls. She was the one to attack the Mudbloods and the cat."

My vision blurred. I looked away. "No," I said, trying to struggle against his arms.

"Yes," he whispered back. "She didn't know it, of course. When you're being possessed, you can't remember what you did. Oh, the things she used to write. Horrible thoughts. She tried to rid of it, after she became suspicious. And then… _you_ found it. I couldn't have been happier."

"Why?" I asked fiercely, liking this Riddle fellow less and less.

Then, without warning, Tom Riddle lowered his lips to mine, his lingering on mine for just a moment, while I struggled with all my might. He pulled back, grinning.

"I showed you the memory of your friend, Hagrid," he said. "That was a laugh. I couldn't believe anyone actually believe me. I created this diary to leave instructions to repeat the process."

" **It was** _ **you**_ _,_ " I whispered, still shaking. "But you haven't succeeded. No one has died."

"Oh, I don't care about anyone else dying," he said indifferently. "The only person that I want dead…" his eyes burned into mine, smoldering me. "…is you."

I breathed heavily, and he leaned his face forward again.

"And then…afraid that you would find out her secrets...she stole the diary back," he said, whispering into my ear. "Then, I had her write her own death message and come down here. Oh, how she struggled."

"What do you want with _me_?" I hissed.

"Now, now," he said playfully. "I want to know…how did you escape the greatest wizard of all time?"

I barked out a laugh. "Greatest wizard? Pul-ease. Dumbledore's the greatest wizard. Besides, Voldemort was after your time."

It was Tom Riddle's turn to laugh. "Don't you get it? _I am Lord Voldemort."_

I gasped, my stomach dropping. Then, I calmed myself down. "You're still not greatest, whoever you are," I said, trying to make myself not think that Lord Voldemort had just kissed me.

Suddenly, music reached my ears. It grew louder and louder. Tom Riddle was now staring over my shoulder. The music was beautiful. It made me feel hopeful, happy, not afraid. I turned around, and Riddle let me.

It was Fawkes, the phoenix from Dumbledore's office. It landed on my shoulder, and I felt a foot taller. Fawkes dropped something on the ground. It was the Sorting Hat.

I was no longer alone. I was aware Riddle was ridiculing me, but I felt more hopeful. I had Fawkes here with me. And he was beautiful.

" _How did you survive_?" he asked again.

"Love. My mother…died to save me," I whispered. I thought of my mother. My father. I'd get through this for them. They didn't die for nothing.

"I see. So, you're not special. You know, me and you, we're alike, aren't we? Half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggles, Parselmouths…"

I shrugged. Riddle held up my wand. I hadn't notice him take it.

"Now, it's time to test the powers of Lord Voldemort against Haile Potter, the Girl Who Lived, and the best weapons Dumbledore could provide."

Riddle spoke in Parseltongue and said, _"_ _Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four."_

"Oh no," I muttered, backing away. Fawkes took flight. "Don't leave me…" I couldn't blame him. I would do the same if I could.

Then, the giant serpent came pouring out of the wall.

 _"_ _Kill her_."


	10. Chapter 10: This Time

I shut my eyes, and ran, my hands feeling the wall beside me, running blindly. Then, I heard terrible ripping noises. I stopped dead in my tracks, and tripped, falling to the ground.

I anticipated feeling the deadly fangs pierce my skin, but nothing happened. My eyes opened a crack, and then all the way, staring in amazement.

Fawkes was blinding him. The Basilik's eyes were scratched out. I cheered. Now I could actually use my eyes! "Thank you!" I cried. "Thank you!"

Riddle was screaming. " _YOU CAN STILL SMELL HER! GET HER! KILL HER! KILL HER!"_

The poor snake was confused. Even with it thrashing blindly around, I was still in danger. I picked up the Sorting Hat, my last weapon.

"Please help me!" I screamed at it. I caught sight of something silver sticking out of the top. It was heavy.

I pulled it out. I stared in more amazement. It was the most beautiful sword I had ever seen. It was long, heavy, silver, and had rubies adorning its hilt.

Riddle was still screaming at it, and it lunged at me. I screamed, ducking, and it hit the wall, hissing and spitting blood. It lunged again, right for me, and I swung back the sword, and with strength I never believed my puny self to have, I stuck the sword right into it.

However, I did not come out uninjured. A single Basilik fang was stuck into my arm. My arm burned as if it was on fire, burning alive slowly. It was over. The poison was spreading—I could feel it.

"I'm so sorry, Ginny," I croaked. Fawkes was at my side again. I slid down the wall. "You were brilliant, Fawkes…"

Fawkes shed a single tear. He dropped right onto my wound. I stared, my eyes widening as the deep wound in my arm sealed up as if it had never been there. The pain vanished at once.

Riddle approached me. "And so, beautiful little Haile dies here. I will watch you die now. I will see you suffer and writhe in pain and…why aren't you in pain?" He glanced at Fawkes and closed his eyes, clearly exasperated. "Phoenixes and their healing powers….No matter. I shall kill you myself."

He raised my wand.

Suddenly, Fawkes dropped the black diary in my lap. I looked up at Riddle, grabbing the diary, and leaning forward, now on my hands and knees. I grabbed the Basilik fang.

"No!" Riddle yelled.

I stabbed the diary with the fang.

Riddle screamed, falling to the floor. I stabbed it again and again and again until Riddle stopped screaming, gone.

I stood up, victorious, but shaking. I couldn't believe what had just happened. "Fawkes…I can't thank you enough," I told him, shakily.

I took the sword out of the dead Basilik's mouth. I grabbed the Sorting Hat as well, and walked over to Ginny. She sat up, color flooding back to her cheeks. She looked at me and burst into tears.

"I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!"

I embraced her tightly, so happy she was alive, so happy I had been here in time, to save her, to kill the thing that had killed Myrtle and attacked my friends, and excited to see Ron's face when he saw her.

We sat there, sobbing into each other's arms. I finally grabbed her, and pulled her to her feet. "Let's go," I told her. "Ron's waiting."

I calmed all of her worries on the way back. I told her that I knew everything. Fawkes followed us silently.

We finally reached Ron. He had managed to break through the rock. "RON!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "RON, I'VE GOT GINNY!"

Ginny started sobbing again, as Ron raced forward and embraced her. "How will we get back up?" I asked, frowning.

Ron shrugged. "I'm not sure," he said.

Lockhart ambled up to us. "Oh, hello," he said, happily. "Nice place down here."

"Yeah…" I mumbled. Fawkes landed on my shoulder, offering me his feathers. "You want me to grab hold?" Fawkes nodded.

"How could a bird…" Ron started, but I shook my head.

"Fawkes is _not_ an ordinary bird. I'll explain everything when we get out of here." I grabbed hold of Fawkes' long, gold feathers, Ron held on to me, Ginny held on to Ron, and Lockhart held on to Ginny.

Fawkes' soared right up, as if we all were weightless. Soon, we were back Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. I glanced at myself in the mirror. My hair was a complete mess. My face, my clothes, and my skin was caked in dirt, blood, and sweat.

Fawkes' led us out of the bathroom. Ginny was still crying. Ron and I held her hands. I kept saying soothing things to her, and Ron kept thanking me. "You're amazing, H," Ron muttered.

Fawkes led us straight to Professor McGonagall's office. How good it felt to be back in Hogwarts. Alive. With Ginny.

I knocked and entered, Ron, Lockhart and Ginny filing behind me.

As we entered, silence flooded the room. Then Mrs. Weasley shrieked and flung herself at Ginny.

Dumbledore was there, too, looking at me like he was the proudest man in the world. I stared back, and smiled.

They made me tell them the whole story. I did, though reluctantly. I told them _everything_. I conveniently left out the part about Riddle kissing me though. That was plain disgusting.

After Mrs. Weasley began to scold Ginny about writing in strange diaries, and Ginny was choked up again in sobs, Dumbledore ordered her parents to take her to the hospital wing.

Professor McGonagall said, "The petrified victims will be waking up any minute now."

"Hermione!" Ron and I exclaimed together.

Dumbledore smiled at us. "Minerva, would you please alert the kitchens to prepare a feast?"

McGonagall nodded. She paused to pat us both on the shoulders. She then left briskly. Dumbledore was still smiling at us. "Mr. Weasley? Could you please escort Mr. Lockhart up to infirmary?" Dumbledore asked Ron.

Ron shot us suspicious looks, but dragged Gilderoy Lockhart out the door. Lockhart waved enthusiastically before Ron shut the door.

"Only loyalty could have summoned Fawkes down to the Chamber," Dumbledore told me, a twinkle in his brilliant blue eyes. "I thank you."

I nodded, waiting. There had to be more.

"You met Tom Riddle," Dumbledore stated, as if he was choosing his words carefully. "What did you think of him?"

My mouth dropped. "Professor…he's _Voldemort!_ He's evil, he's cruel, he's…" My voice dropped. "like me…"

"Like you?" Dumbledore said. "Ah, yes. But you, of course, are not evil, nor mean. The likeness between the two of you is because of when he attempted to kill you that night he left some of himself in _you_. That's why you can speak Parseltongue."

My mouth dropped _again_. "He left some of himself in me?" I repeated, dumbstruck.

"Yes. Haile…do you remember when you were being Sorted?" he asked me.

My eyes lit up. "Professor, I do! The Sorting Hat…it wanted to put me in Slytherin! I should be in Slytherin!" I cried desperately. "With Malfoy and Crabbe and Goyle and that awful Parkinson girl…and—"

I stopped, looking up sheepishly. Dumbledore, however, merely looked amused. "Haile Regina, do not fret. The Sorting Hat did not put you in Slytherin for what reason?"

"I asked not to be," I said lowly.

"Exactly. That is where you differ. Our choices show what we truly are, much more than our abilities. Though you possessed Slytherin-like qualities like Riddle himself, you chose to be in Gryffindor."

I nodded, taking it all in.

Dumbledore spoke again. "And Haile…did you see the sword you pulled out of the hat?"

I looked down at it. It lay on Dumbledore's desk. I examined it, this time more thoroughly. I noticed a name engraved on the hilt. _Godric Gryffindor._

I looked up, excited.

"Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled _that_ out of a hat," he said, rather cheerfully. "Now, Haile, please proceed down to the feast."

We both stood, and I walked to the door. I turned around, and said, "Professor…there's one more thing. When you asked me earlier in the year if there was anything I'd like to talk about…I said no. I lied. I was hearing the Basilik move around the school. But I thought you might think I was crazy."

Dumbledore smiled at me. "It's alright, Haile. Things turned out all right, didn't they?"

I hesitated again. "There's just one more thing I'd like to say."

"I am overjoyed at this new honesty," Dumbledore replied. "Please, continue."

"When we were down in the Chamber…Riddle…well, _kissed_ me," I said, hurriedly, my cheeks blushing.

To my surprise, Dumbledore threw back his head and laughed. I stared, confused, until Dumbledore said, wiping tears from his eyes, "Though Lord Voldemort is no longer a man persay, the Tom Riddle preserved in that diary _was_."

I didn't really understand at that moment, but I didn't press the subject.

Lucius Malfoy entered at that moment, looking horrified. Dobby followed him. I gasped. I started to say his name, but Dobby shook his head hurriedly.

I remembered that Lucius had no knowledge that Dobby had ever visited me. Lucius and Dumbledore began having a heated conversation about his return and the Chamber while Dobby whispered in my ear, "Lucius is the one that gave Ginny Weasley the diary."

I nodded, and then spoke up. "Mr. Malfoy," I said, loudly. He turned around to look at me, practically snarling. "Aren't you the who gave Ginny the diary?"

Lucius turned pale, and he hissed, "Prove it." I said nothing. "Come, Dobby. We're leaving."

He swept from the room and I looked at Dumbledore, with a new idea forming in my mind. "Professor…may I return the diary to Mr. Malfoy?"

"Certainly."

I ran from the room, ripping off my shoes and socks as I did. I stuffed a sock into the diary and caught up with Lucius Malfoy.

"Mr. Malfoy, here's the diary," I said, shoving it at him.

He took it aggressively and looked me over. "You could use a bath," he said, coldly.

"That diary is probably dirtier than me," I told him, smiling widely. "It must be caked in sweat, dirt…blood…"

Lucius thrust the diary at Dobby. "Carry it."

Dobby opened up the diary to wear I had stuffed the sock.

"Come, Dobby."

Dobby stood rooted to the stop.

Lucius whirled around. "I said, come."

"I'm free," Dobby squeaked, holding up a sock. "You, Master, handed me a sock. I'm free! FREE!"

Lucius looked at me, really snarling this time. "Haile Potter," he said, his eye twitching. "The Girl Who Lived. **_This time_**." He gave me the meanest look _ever_ and stalked away.

Dobby looked at me and broke into a humungous grin. "You are the best witch alive!" he squealed, hugging me, and disappeared.

I smiled after he was gone.

The feast lasted all night. It was by far the best fun I had ever had. Even caked in dirt, blood, and sweat, people were constantly coming up to me, hugging me, apologizing, and thanking me. Ron and I had won the House Cup with two hundred points apiece. Exams had even been cancelled.

The best part was talking to Hermione again. "You solved it!" she exclaimed. "I knew you would! Oh, I'm so proud of you two!" She hugged us both.

The rest of term flew by. I was sad when it was the last day, the day we boarded the Hogwarts Express for home. I met Malfoy on my way down to the library, returning books last minute.

"Potter," he growled.

"How goes it, Draco?" I asked scornfully.

"My dad's been sacked as a governor," he told me. "You set our _house-elf_ free. _What is your problem_?"

" _You're_ my problem!" I told him. "You're a malicious little punk who needs to get over himself!"

He narrowed his eyes. "You'll pay for this."

I sighed. "Unfortunately, Draco, I'm pretty sure I'm just getting started."

He stalked away. I waved.

On the ride home, the Weasleys minus Percy, Hermione, and I had a compartment to ourselves.

"Say, Ginny," Ron said, "what was it that Percy was so secretive about?"

Ginny burst out in giggles. "I caught him and his girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater, kissing one day. He was really embarrassed over it."

We all burst out laughing. "Don't make fun of him!" Ginny cried.

Fred and George looked at each other. "Never…" they said in unison. Then Fred pulled out a notebook and made a note.

"What's that?" I asked them in an undertone.

"Our personal book on making our brother's lives miserable," George said, winking. "Write that down, Fred. Penelope Clearwater…caught kissing. Good."

I laughed, and I felt as light as air.

As we left the train, Ron and Hermione hugged me. And Ginny. "Haile, thanks," she said, smiling.

"Have a great summer, guys," I told them. "I hope to see you soon."

I looked over, and saw the Dursleys waiting for me. I sighed. Another great summer after another eventful year. I hoped next year would be a perfectly normal, Voldemort-free year.

Well, I would get half my wish, I suppose.


End file.
